


A Collection of Pikmin Stories

by pikfic



Category: Pikmin (Video Game), Super Smash Brothers
Genre: Angst, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, and quite a bit in between
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-10-01 02:29:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 22,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17235653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikfic/pseuds/pikfic
Summary: As implied by the title, a collection of short stories for the Pikmin franchise. Most of these were originally posted on my tumblr account.





	1. Farewell to the Stars

This was it, then. The final day. For a whole long month, Captain Olimar had toiled away on this planet. And now, at the end of the thirtieth day, it was time to see if his effort had been enough.

As the sun sank towards the horizon, long since obscured by the massive trees, Olimar looked to the _S. S. Dolphin_. She was still missing a good deal of parts, and looked a bit worse for wear. But she would make it, Olimar knew she would.

He had to believe she would.

The Hocotatian captain turned once more to survey his crew of pikmin. One hundred pairs of eyes stared back at him. Thirty three of those pikmin were blue, and another thirty three yellow. Thirty four were red, the disparity being caused by one red pikmin that stood before the rest.

Olimar admittedly had had hard time telling the pikmin apart, beyond color. They all simply looked the same, acted the same, for all intents and purposes, seemed the same. But this one, this sole red pikmin that stood away from the rest, before its leader…

Somehow, Olimar knew. This little red pikmin was the first one. The very first pikmin he had ever seen, that had worked beside him right from the beginning of this horrible nightmare of a misadventure. This pikmin had stayed beside Olimar, even when Olimar knew for a fact he didn’t deserve it; it had stayed by him even when it saw so many of its brethren die by his negligence. And yet, it still trusted him to throw it headlong into battle, following his commands to the last.

And this one pikmin was looking at him now, and…

Olimar has a hard time understanding the pikmins’ emotions, or even really knowing if they had them. But he could’ve sworn that the red pikmin was looking at him with _worry_. As if it knew that the _Dolphin_ was going to—

No. Olimar couldn’t think like that. The _Dolphin_ would make it. She would carry him home.

As the sky grew ever darker, Olimar let out one final, loud whistle, signaling to the gathered pikmin that the day was over, that it was time to take shelter in the Onions. And ninety seven of the pikmin did as the captain commanded, hurrying to their respective organic ships. But three pikmin- the red one, a yellow, and a blue, stayed where they were. The three of them simply stood there, watching Olimar, all with the same expression the captain could’ve sworn was worry.

“Go on,” he murmured, gesturing the pikmin towards the Onions, “the nighttime isn’t safe.”

The pikmin looked at him, tilting their heads to the left in tandem.

Olimar took a step forward and knelt in front of the three. For a long moment, his mouth merely moved as he struggled for the right words. It was silly, he knew; the pikmin couldn’t understand his language. But he still felt he had to say something to these little creatures who risked life and limb for him for an entire month, no questions asked.

The red pikmin seemed to understand his struggle. With a quiet noise, it stepped forward and reached out its little hands, laying its palms against the curve of Olimar’s helmet. For a long moment, the pikmin just looked at Olimar, and Olimar looked back.

The little creature’s eyes seemed to implore Olimar not to go. But he had to; he didn’t have a choice. His suit was already beeping quietly at him that his life support’s battery was running out. He had to go now, or die of oxygen poisoning. 

Slowly, the pikmin stepped back to join the other two, and slowly, Olimar rose and turned to the _Dolphin_. He didn’t have the heart to tell the pikmin once more to go to the Onions, and he didn’t have the courage to meet their concerned eyes again.

He engaged the _Dolphin’s_ tractor beam and let it lift him into the belly of the ship. Mere moments later, he was seated in the cockpit, tightening the harness of the pilot’s seat over his chest. Biting his lip and straining to keep his hands from shaking, the captain reached for the ship’s ignition.

“ _Goodbye, pikmin_ ,” he whispered. “ _Were it only that we could have met under better circumstances._ ”

Then he flicked the switch, and the _Dolphin_ roared to life. There was a shaky moment where Olimar wasn’t sure she would lift off, but then, with a loud roar and a slightly disconcerting shudder, the ship began to move skyward. On the dashboard in front of Olimar, a screen lit up with the ship’s diagnostics. There was a concerning amount of red, but Olimar had run out of time to search for the remaining ship parts.

As the ship slowly struggled to escape the planet’s gravity, Olimar looked out the cockpit window, to where the first stars were beginning to shine, the glowing pinpricks of light bearing witness to the captain’s true final trial.

Olimar glanced back to the control panel. More warning lights were lighting up.

Taped to the corner of the dashboard was a small photograph, one that had been there nearly since it had been taken. To it, Olimar now looked, a small smile twitching at his mouth as he peered at the familiar grins of his family.

He could almost already hear their welcoming voices as he came home.

More stars were coming out now, as the _Dolphin_ inched ever closer, her engine roaring.

He could see his wife’s beautiful smile, a soft laugh escaping her mouth, _you’re home sooner than I expected, Oli, dear. Did you have a nice vacation?_

The _Dolphin’s_ ascent was slowing, and Olimar tightened his grip on the throttle, pushing his ship onward.

He could hear his son’s excited shout, _dad! Tell me about your adventure! Was it exciting_? And see his son’s look of wide wonder as he described the friendly aliens that had saved his life.

The _Dolphin_ lost all upward momentum, and for a moment, it hung in the air. Olimar peered through the window, at the dark sky and stars far above. Maybe it was just something to do with the planet’s atmosphere, but Olimar thought he had never seen the night sky look so beautiful.

Then his vision was lit by a red glow, the control panel screen lighting with the words “TOTAL SYSTEM FAILURE.”

And then, he was in freefall, harness tightening against his chest, keeping him in his seat.

He could almost feel his daughter’s arms wrapped around him in a tight hug.

Smoke billowed into the cockpit. Olimar closed his eyes.

It smelled like something burning, and he could imagine his wife’s look of surprise as he asked her if she had forgotten something in the oven again.

“ _It’s alright,_ ” he would tell her, “ _even a little singed, your meals are still the best in all of Hocotate._ ”

Olimar’s ears filled with a ripping, shrieking, crashing sound as the branches of the trees caught at the _Dolphin’s_ hull.

“ _And I’m glad I can finally have dinner with you._ ”

Despite the smoke, Olimar opened his eyes once more, looking again to the photograph with a fond, but sad smile. He reached out a hand to brush his fingertips against it.

The _Dolphin_ was clear of the trees now. It would only be moments before it hit the ground.

“I’m sorry, my dear… I think I’m going to be a little late for dinner, tonight.”

There was a crash. Shattered glass and metal shrapnel filled the air. Flames blossomed from the control panel. The cockpit’s window caved in, leaving Olimar exposed to the hostile atmosphere. Then the automatic ejecting system booted up, and Olimar was flung from the cockpit. He landed on the ground, his helmet cracking on the impact. He skidded a few feet, his already damaged spacesuit ripping in the process. And finally, he came to a halt, mere feet away from where the Onions still rested, and three pikmin stood, watching the doomed flight.

Olimar saw none of this, however, for his soul was already flying homeward bound. 


	2. Golden Chase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Captain Olimar flees the Plasm Wraith

Captain Olimar ran. **  
**

He ran hard and fast, breath coming in sharp gasps, feet pounding against the floor of the dimly lit tunnel. How long has he been here, lost in this maze? How far had he run through these corridors? How many times, how much had he looped back on himself, infernally lost within the Formidable Oak’s labyrinthian hallways?

He didn’t know. He simply didn’t know. 

He had been running for ages, searching to no avail, for an exit. 

Louie had warned him. Louie had _warned him_! 

He should’ve listened. 

But he hadn’t. He hadn’t listened, as a good captain would’ve. Instead, too lost in thoughts of home, of returning to Hocotate with money to spare, of reclaiming his beloved _S. S. Dolphin_ , of _finally_ getting to see his family…

Too lost to see the danger, Olimar had ventured on, tempted, taunted by that glimmer of gold by which he was now haunted. 

He could almost feel its sightless gaze on the back of his neck, whispering, calling, challenging. _You won’t make it out_ , it said to him. _You’re lost. You’re tired. You’ve failed to find treasure. You’ve lost all your crew._

_You’re exhausted._

That was the worst part, the exhaust. Because Olimar knew he was getting more than enough sleep. His suit’s malfunctioning forced sleep mode made sure of that. Olimar knew he wasn’t tired. 

But still the leering whispers echoed in his head, and his feet dragged. Breathing hard, he slowed to a walk, then stopped altogether, leaning heavily against the wall. 

He shouldn’t have been tired. Had to keep going. Had to get home. Couldn’t fall asleep. Had to escape. Should’ve listened. Should’ve been a better captain. Better leader. Lost Louie. Lost the pikmin. Lost—

The familiar growl of a grubdog from somewhere behind spurred Olimar on. He pushed himself on and managed to work up to a fast jog. 

It wasn’t a real bulborb. Olimar knew this. It was merely another bulborb-like apparition summoned by the Plasm Wraith. A bulbwraith. He had lost all his crew fighting them. Not all at once, it had been slow. Just one or two, here or there, after taking out hordes of the plasm-beasts. One or two, here or there, battle after battle after battle. And as the days slipped by, he just kept slowly losing his crew. The Plasm Wraith, however, was unaffected. Every killed beast would simply dissolve into golden sludge to be reformed later. To hunt Olimar again. 

The thing had been friendly enough to begin with, of course. It had been nice, helpful. Leading Olimar through the tunnels, all the way to the top of the Formidable Oak. It had been careful. When Olimar had stumbled, it had caught him before his helmet hit the ground. It had even been playful, lightly tossing around the pikmin and singing with them in its strange voice. 

Olimar rounded a sharp bend and ducked into a small alcove in the wall. After a moment, the Plasm Wraith bulborb lumbered by, grunting and snuffling. He waited until it was gone before emerging and jogging off in the opposite direction. 

Of course, when the sun began to set, Olimar had packed up his research notes, and turned to head back to the ship. But…

The Plasm Wraith had not wanted him to leave. It had grabbed him with its gelatinous arms and dragged him back. No matter how he tried to run, it just pulled him back. 

He hadn’t wanted to harm it. It had been friendly, and the non-hostile creatures on the planet were few and far between. But as he grew more anxious about the coming night, he had thrown just a few pikmin at it to try to ward it off. 

That had distracted it enough to for him to run. 

Breathing hard, Olimar paused at yet another junction. For a long moment, he merely stood there. Then, on a whim, he chose to go left. 

The Wraith has given chase, of course. Twice, it had pulled Olimar back to the top of the Oak. The third time he ran it seemed to catch on that he needed the aid of the pikmin to do so. And that’s when it began changing bits of itself into other beasts to attack Olimar, and whittle away his crew’s numbers. 

Footfall after footfall, the captain ran. That quickly changed to backpedaling when he just barely managed to avoid stepping on a skitterleaf- a wraithleaf. He turned and hurried back to the junction and took the other path. Or-... was it the path he came from? He couldn’t tell, and didn’t have time- or energy- to stop and check. 

But still, Olimar had fled the terrifying beast. And then his suit started malfunctioning. 

Olimar has been shocked, at first, by the sudden wave of drowsiness that had washed over him. He hadn’t understood what was happening, at first. Hadn’t realized his own suit, the one thing between him and the very air that tried to kill him, was slowly, systematically shutting down all his unnecessary body functions. Putting him to sleep. 

He had passed out that first time, right there. In the middle of one of the great chambers of the tree trunk’s interior. Completely exposed, unguarded. 

Luckily, he had, at that time, still had a reasonable number of pikmin with him, not yet picked off, and they, clever little beings that they were, had carried their slumbering leader to a safer spot to nap. 

Well. Relatively safe. As safe as one could be in the Formidable Oak with that golden, shifting mass lurking about. 

When he had woken, it was to the sharp cry of fallen pikmin. They had been ambushed by a swarm of sheargrubs— wraithgrubs. He could still hear the pained shrieks of his faithful companions as they were devoured whole. As he sat there, still half asleep, still being subdued by his own suit, too groggy to understand what was happening. His last thirty six pikmin, gone, just like that. 

Olimar skidded to a halt at another crossroads. Which way? Which way did he go? Or not go? Had he been here before? Did this look familiar? Which way had he gone last time?

A sudden noise made the captain turn, and he saw just in time the shape hurtling towards him to duck out of the way. As he rose again, the familiar buzzing sound was all he needed to know. 

A swooping snitchbug.

Not really, though. A swooping snitchwraith. 

Struggling to stand, Olimar just managed to regain his balance for the flying bug to dive again, knocking him onto his side. 

This time, he managed to scramble to his feet a bit more quickly, and took off running. 

After all his pikmin were gone, the Plasm Wraith’s summoned beasts stopped hunting to kill. Not that they didn’t still hunt Olimar. They hounded him with a ferocity. But they didn’t try to injure him- not horribly, at least. 

They just corralled him back towards the top of the tree trunk. Chased him in the right direction. And he dared not contradict them, for fear that they become truly aggressive.

Leaving the snitchbug behind, Olimar slowed to a walk. Then a sort of slow shuffle. Then he stopped outright and leaned against the wall. Then he slumped to the floor. 

Every time he fell asleep, was forced asleep, the Wraith found him. Brought him back to its nest, it’s lair. And all the progress he made was lost, only to be done again. 

A heavy yawn escaping his mouth, Olimar found himself sliding down even farther, until he was lying on his side, back to the wall. Thick drowsiness tugged at his eyelids, and he struggled to keep his eyes open. 

His suit’s forced sleep mode was on again. 

Distantly, he heard the buzz of the swooping snitchbug again. Must not have lost it as well as he thought. Or the Wraith has simply summoned another one. 

Either way, he had to get up. He had to keep going. Get away. 

Another yawn pried Olimar’s jaws apart, and this time, Olimar didn’t fight it. Knew he _couldn’t_ fight it. He could already feel his tired movements slowing, his muscles weakening. His breaths coming slower. His pulse dropping. 

There was nothing that could be done. 

The buzz of the approaching snitchbug filling his ears once more, Olimar merely closed his eyes once more and left his fate to the whims of the Plasm Wraith.


	3. Craft of Culinary Arts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which hunger makes us do strange things

Louie was, predictably, hungry. **  
**

He stood in the snow of the Valley of Repose, watching the pikmin carry a dwarf bulborb back to their onion. The day was nearing its end, though Captain Olimar was still nowhere to be found, likely rounding up the last few pikmin in the field, or else trying for one last treasure or other before the day was done. Louie didn’t really know where he had gone, all he knew was that Captain Olimar had commanded him to wait until they were both there to crack open tonight’s dinner rations.

And, in all honesty, for as annoyed as Louie was at this command, he really couldn’t blame Captain Olimar for issuing it. Just like he couldn’t blame the Hocotate Freight president for sending him out to this forsaken planet to pay off that debt for the golden PikPik carrots. Louie had, once again, let his stomach do the thinking, and eaten something he was not supposed to, that being two days’ worth of rations. So now he was standing out in the snow, shivering in his suit’s thin insulation, waiting to receive dinner, forbidden from retrieving it himself. 

The hungry Hocotatian wrapped his arms around himself, stamping his feet to ward off the cold. He licked his lips a little, already drooling at the thought of dinner. 

Of course, it didn’t help that the pikmin looked so much like PikPik brand carrots. It was even in their name! Unfortunately- or, rather, probably to great fortune- Captain Olimar had quite hastily denied Louie’s wondering that maybe, just maybe, the two might have tasted similar. And again, Louie could understand that, the pikmin were helping them to a great degree. 

But Louie was just _so hungry_. And all this working and exercising and carrot-looking companions did nothing to ease the noise emanating from his belly. 

Louie let out a small sigh of longing, watching as another little group of pikmin carried another dwarf bulborb to the red onion. The onion quickly swallowed it up, and on receiving it, it spat out a few more red seeds. 

Suppose-...

No, no, that was just silly. Perhaps the Onions could process this planet’s indigenous life, but surely, a vegetarian Hocotatian couldn’t…

Then again. The pikmin could “eat” them, assuming the onion’s consumption of things worked in generally the same way, kind of. 

Except the pikmin, too, were also native to the planet. What if there was something poisonous in these creatures’ blood?

But… what if there wasn’t? What if it was perfectly fine, normal meat? Or, as normal as the meat of a dwarf bulborb could be. 

Louie’s stomach let out another grumble. He knew for sure where his stomach’s vote went on the matter. And when it really came down to it, that was the most important vote, wasn’t it? Because his stomach was keeping him alive, after all, by letting him know he needed to eat more. 

And just like that, the matter was settled.

✿✿✿

Olimar was, in all honesty, getting a little fed up with Louie. 

It wasn’t that he was mad at Louie. He liked the young Hocotatian, and even the rarely-speaking company made the planet that much less lonely. Not to mention that Olimar almost thought of Louie as a third child, or at least a student of sorts. He had more or less taken Louie under his wing when the younger had begun working at Hocotate Freight, and the two had made more than a few freight trips together to various planets throughout the known galaxy. 

No, for all his faults, for all his impulsiveness and thoughtlessness, Louie was not on Olimar’s bad side. 

That said, he was still the cause of Olimar’s current frustration. 

After the whole debacle last night when Olimar found out Louie had consumed their food rations for the next couple days, Olimar was bound to be in a less-than-happy mood. But, he knew Louie was highly impulsive, and had little self control when it came to food, and readily forgave the younger Hocotatian- albeit with a rule that Louie was no longer allowed to loot the larder. 

But now, with the day coming to an end, Louie had ceased answering Olimar’s comms. At first, Olimar had been scared that Louie was in danger (again). But then the ship had informed Olimar that Louie was, in fact, merely flouting protocol (again), and was already in the ship’s small kitchen. 

And that was what had Olimar so irritated. That his subordinate would _so quickly_ disobey a rule that had been put in place for their own survival! And on top of that, that Louie would, despite Olimar’s patient reprimanding, once again _so quickly_ give in to his stomach’s urging. 

His movements quick with anger, Olimar whistled the pikmin following him to their respective onions, and stepped into range of the ship’s tractor beam. Once inside the ship, he saw, unsurprisingly but all the more aggravating, Louie’s spacesuit and helmet abandoned carelessly on the floor. Olimar could only grumble under his breath as he cleaned up after his coworker and put away his own suit. 

Then he was striding off in the direction of the kitchen. 

As he approached, though, the smell that hit his nose was definitely not that of instant space noodles cooking. It was much… richer, much more savory, and altogether much more _delicious_ smelling than the meals of the past few nights. 

Cautiously, Olimar stepped into the kitchen to see Louie standing at the stove, stirring the contents of a pot. 

“Lou-ie,” Olimar said slowly, “what are you doing?”

“...Cooking,” was the short response. 

“And what are you cooking?”

Now Louie turned around to look at Olimar, that blunt, almost apathetic look on his face. “Dwarf bulborb.”

Olimar just blinked, his brow furrowing. 

“It’s a bisque,” Louie attempted to clarify, ultimately only confusing the captain even more. 

Olimar slowly walked forward, coming to gaze warily at the thick stew. “...You’re making a bisque out of bulborb.”

“Dwarf bulborb,” Louie corrected. “It’s almost done.”

Olimar gave the experimental chef a sidelong look. “And… what possessed you to think bulborb bisque was a good idea? Or even a _safe_ one?”

Louie just shrugged, to which Olimar replied with a heavy sigh. 

“Smells good, though,” Louie offered in the way of some strange form of consolation. “Might as well try it and see.”

Olimar lifted a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. At least Louie wasn’t wasting more of their rations, he supposed. “Louie, this is _exactly_ the kind of thinking that got you here. Acting without thinking, and letting your stomach rule your— Louie, _no_!”

But it was too late. Louie had already swallowed the contents of the spoon, and he looked rather proud of himself. Then he grabbed a new spoon, and offered it to Olimar. 

“Louie, we don’t know what’s in that. Dwarf Bulborb could be highly poisonous. For all we know, that meat could be completely saturated with oxygen!”

Louie took a moment to respond. “...Tastes fine.”

“Louie, you can’t just-!” Olimar cut himself off with a heavy sigh. 

Louie only reached for a couple of bowls, and doled out the dwarf bulborb bisque more or less equally into each. While deftly spooning the soup into his own mouth with one hand, he slid the other bowl over to Olimar. “For the rations I ate,” he argued between mouthfuls. 

Olimar let out another grumble, but took the offered bowl and spoon. Louie had a point, and after all those nights of instant space noodles, the bisque really did smell amazing. Not as good as Olimar’s wife’s PikPik carrot stew, but definitely pretty far up there. 

Slowly, Olimar lifted a spoonful to his mouth, then hesitated. 

“It’s good,” Louie encouraged in that near monotonous voice of his, having already emptied his bowl, turning to the pot for seconds. 

For a long moment, Olimar debated his situation. On one hand, this was an incredibly risky thing to do. On the other, this could dramatically benefit the Hocotatians’ diets- months of nothing but instant space noodles tended to have some negative effects on a guy. 

Olimar took another look at Louie. It had been almost twenty minutes now since Louie had begun eating, and he had yet to show any signs of poisoning, oxygen or otherwise. Logically, of course, Olimar knew that poisons could take quite a bit longer to take effect, but, well…

He was hungry, and it did smell delicious. And Louie had already eaten almost the entire pot now but for what Olimar had in front of him. 

Heaving another sigh, Olimar gave in, and ate the dwarf bulborb bisque. 

And after that day, Olimar readily ate anything Louie put in front of him. 


	4. Dreams and Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Olimar visits home

Captain Olimar woke with the sun. That was the way it had been for months, rise and sleep with the sun. It was because he had too much work to do, far too much to do, and it was too dangerous in the night to-...

But wait a second. Here he was, lying not on his bunk in the ship, but in a bed made with soft sheets, a luxuriously fluffy pillow beneath his head. And as he sat up, yawning, he saw the familiar wooden nightstand beside the bed, with a lamp and an alarm clock on top. And there, on his other side…

Still asleep, snoring just a little, and smiling quite a bit, was his beautiful wife.

Olimar smiled and closed his eyes, the urgency of his awakening fading. Yes, he was still awake at the crack of dawn, that hadn’t changed and, after all those months with his survival depending on how much he could achieve in a day, that probably would never change. 

But the rest? The jumping immediately to action, the shine of the foreign sun glinting off his helmet, the cries of alien creatures, friendly and hostile, the weight of his life support pack on his back, and the ever-pressing need to collect just one more thing, _one more thing before the sun set—_ …

It had all been a dream. A recurring nightmare. Nothing more. He was home, now. He was home, he was safe. 

Olimar swung his legs over the side of the bed, and slid his bare feet into his slippers. As he headed for the door, he grabbed up his bathrobe from where it had been carelessly flung last night on the chair, and pulled it on over his plaid-pajama clad shoulders. 

As Olimar stepped out into the hallway, he paused to stand in the rays of sunlight that were just beginning to pour in the windows. It was nice, to stand like this in the sun, not worried about the time already slipping by. 

The doors to both his children’s rooms were closed, and there was no evidence of the kids stirring. But of course they were still asleep, today was Saturday. The best kind of day, the kind of day that Olimar got to spend at home with his family, the kind of day that warranted an outing to the park, or maybe the beach. 

Smiling to himself as he began to muse on the optional engagements for the day, Olimar continued down the hall, further down the stairs, and into the kitchen. He would’ve liked to make breakfast to surprise his family when they woke, but years of such failed attempts had long since taught the father that cooking was most definitely not his strong suit. 

He could, however, make coffee. That was simple enough, just add the grounds and the water, press a few buttons, and the machine did the rest. That way, at least, he could help his wife in her own breakfast-making endeavors. 

And sure enough, not much later, his wife was placing in front of him a plate of pancakes, cooked to a perfect breadbug golden-brown color. These, and Olimar’s coffee, quickly disappeared. They had been so good, Olimar felt he had done hardly any eating at all. 

As his son and daughter both shuffled into the kitchen, still half asleep, Olimar rose. “Good morning, kids!” He smiled enthusiastically. His greeting was met with drowsy responses. Olimar decided to let his kids wake up over breakfast, and to go get dressed in the meantime. 

And after getting dressed, he returned to the kitchen to find his children much more awake and just finishing breakfast. This time, they both looked to him with smiles as bright as the sun. 

“What do you think of going to the park today?” Olimar asked, and was met with hearty agreement. “Well go get dressed, then!”

And with that, his children were scampering off to change out of their pajamas. 

Soon after, Olimar found himself walking down the street, hand in hand with his wife, while his kids ran on ahead. The sun warmed his skin, and a light breeze played with his hair- and it was such a nice day, he wasn’t even bothered by the fact that there was significantly less hair on his head for the breeze to play with. 

At the park, the little family was quickly engaged in a game of frisbee. And here, Olimar found one of the few benefits of his stay on the Pikmin Planet- his throwing arm had since vastly improved. His _catching arm_ , on the other hand, remained about as poor as it had been, and Olimar still floundered with the disc every time it flew towards him. 

The point of the game wasn’t necessarily to catch it, though. The point was merely to have fun, to enjoy time with his family. 

And he did. 

After the frisbee game, Olimar found himself seated on a park bench, his wife leaning on his shoulder, while his kids played a little ways away. Soon they would be returning home for lunch, and how the day continued from there, well…

It was anyone’s guess. 

Lunch was sandwiches. Olimar couldn’t have any carrots on his sandwich, though. The shape reminded him too much of the pikmin. 

That was okay, though. They were just carrots, and the sandwich was good, nonetheless. 

After lunch, belly full, Olimar felt it would be a good time for an afternoon nap. So he flopped down on the couch, kicked back, and settled down for a luxury he couldn’t afford on the Pikmin Planet. Time to sit back, and do nothing productive. 

Rather quickly, Olimar’s breathing evened out and slowed down, his pulse dropping as he slipped into peaceful oblivion. 

And then-...

“ _Rise and shine, Captain Olimar! It is time to get up._ ”

Olimar jolted awake, the electronic voice pulling him from his sleep. Why-...?

Oh. _Oh_. 

Here he was, lying on his hard bunk in the ship, rough, thin sheets all but keeping him warm, the all-too-familiar hum of the ship’s machinery whirring away. 

“ _Captain Olimar?_ ”

It had merely been a dream. He was not home. He was not safe. He was spinning in orbit around the Pikmin Planet, only moments away from risking his life again in everyday work. 

“ _Captain Olimar, I am detecting an unusual wetness in your eyes, and you appear to be having trouble breathing. Are you okay?_ ”

It had all been a dream, a dream of warm sunlight and loving smiles, of familiar faces and familiar laughs. Of comfort and ease and no worry. 

“ _Captain Olimar! Do you require assistance? Should I wake Louie?_ ”

Olimar’s breaths came in pained gasps, his jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists. With a soundless wail that still failed to voice his agony, the father rolled over and buried his face in his pillow. 

“ _Captain Olimar!_ ”

This was the worst kind of nightmare. 


	5. For Koppai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alph is nervous about the mission on which he is about to embark

It was only 20:34, and Alph could already tell it was going to be a long night. **  
**

He sat at his desk, mindlessly doodling sketches of various types of rockets and starships. Though a few rays of twilight filtered in through his bedroom window, the main source of light in the room was his desk lamp. In the corner of his desk sat an empty plate, sticky with the remaining juice of a fruit dinner.

An expensive commodity, in today’s fruit crisis. But Alph was privileged to be the grandson and protege of the greatest starship builder of Koppai- and possibly of the whole known galaxy. He was lucky enough to eat better- not necessarily _well_ , but _better_ \- than most of Koppai’s general population. 

Besides, as one of the four Koppaiates chosen to go on the Save-Koppai-From-Starvation mission, Alph had been repeatedly told in the last few months that he needed to be eating better to stay in top condition for the mission. 

Alph thought it was a little unfair that he was potentially starving other Koppaiates when he was supposed to be saving them, but he figured that it would (hopefully) balance out when he returned home with plenty of fruit. 

If he returned home, that is. In fact, that whole idea was the one that he knew was going to be keeping him up all night. Because tomorrow was the day he would be leaving, and he didn’t know if he would be making it back. 

So even though he still had a while before he should be in bed, he knew he wasn’t going to be sleeping anytime soon. 

The last light had faded from the sky outside when there was a knock at Alph’s bedroom door. At a confirmation from Alph, Grampa Drake proceeded into the room, an excited grin on his face.

Grampa Drake was, without a doubt, of the same blood as Alph. The two shared the same face shape, the same nose, the same wide, excited eyes, and the same shock of bluish hair, albeit Drake’s was graying, and Alph had gotten his hair cut recently. They differed in that Drake had a generally larger frame than Alph, taller and broad-shouldered, and that his skin was darker and wrinkled with age. 

“Well, sport?” The older Koppaiate asked his descendant. “Ready for your big day tomorrow?”

At the mention of the topic, Alph just let out a groan, letting his head fall on the desk. 

Grampa Drake just let out a small chuckle, setting a hand on Alph’s shoulder. “Nervous?”

“...Uh-huh.”

“Can’t say I blame you! After all, the whole of Koppai is depending on you!”

“ _Grampa Drake_!”

The old man just let out a hearty laugh. After a moment, though, his joking failing to lift his grandson’s spirits, Drake let out a sigh. “You’re going to do just fine, Alph.”

Alph just groaned again. “...You should be going, not me. You’d be better at this!”

That prompted another laugh from Grampa Drake. “Maybe forty or fifty years ago I’d go, but I hardly think I’d be cut out for adventure now!”

“Yeah, but-“ Alph gestured, trying to express in vague hand motions what he could not in words.

“But nothing. You are more than prepared for this, Alph. And my ship needs a good mechanic to keep an eye on her! I can’t think of anyone I’d trust more to do the job.”

That earned a small laugh from Alph, however on edge he might be. For as much as Grampa Drake had been against the exploratory vessel being named after him, he still had put an immense amount of work into the ship, and took a great deal of pride in it. Alph had no doubt that the S. S. _Drake_ was the finest starship his grandfather had built to date. 

The small Koppaiate’s mood sobered quickly again, though, and he let out another nervous sigh, looking down at his hands. “But… what if I do something wrong? What if I mess up? And what if…”

Grampa Drake reached down to take up one of Alph’s hands in his own. While Drake’s hands were certainly bigger, they shared with Alph’s the same loose pattern of callouses from years of using the same tools, and the same darkened fingers, stained with grease that would come out only with time, regardless of the amount of soap used, and the same rough, uneven nails, filed down not intentionally, but by hard work. 

“That won’t happen, Alph. You’re smart, you’re quick, and you work better than you think you do under pressure. And, on top of that, out of all the thousands of Koppaiates applying for the position, you were chosen for the mission.” Here, a wry smile lit the old Koppaiate’s face. “Which means all my praise isn’t just my grandparental love for you speaking, it’s been _officially_ confirmed by the people overseeing this mission.”

“... Heh. Yeah, I guess so.”

There was a moment of comfortable silence between the grandfather and grandson. 

Then Grampa Drake released Alph’s hand and gave Alph a light slap on the back. “Anyhow, sport, you’ve got to get up early tomorrow! You should at least _try_ to get some sleep!”

To this Alph agreed- though he doubted it could be achieved. 

✿✿✿

Alph stood at one of the S. S. Drake’s viewports, watching as the greyish marble that was Koppai slowly grew smaller in the distance. The _Drake_ had left the planet only a few hours ago, and already, Alph was missing home intensely. 

The send off for the heroes of Koppai had been a surprisingly small affair. Sure, there had been tv cameras and a few news reporters, but the entire thing had been considerably quieter than Alph had expected. Grampa Drake had come to see him off, of course, but none of Alph’s siblings had shown up. Brittany had only her aunt to say goodbye to. And Captain Charlie had come alone. 

Unfortunately, the fourth member of the crew had become quite sick in the night, and wouldn’t be joining the expedition to PNF-404. There hadn’t been time, either, to find a replacement. 

And before Alph knew it, Grampa Drake had given him one last hug and whispered quietly that he would be with his grandson always in spirit (that’s why he had allowed the ship to be named the _Drake_ , after all), and then Alph was aboard the ship, and the ground was already fading below. 

Closing his eyes, Alph heaved a sigh.

“Something on your mind?”

“ _Ah_ -!!” Alph started. “Captain Charlie! I- I didn’t know you were there!”

“Hm.” Captain Charlie crossed his arms over his chest. 

Alph looked back to the window, back to the ever-shrinking planet. “I-... was just thinking, how little time we were given to say goodbye, and…”

“And how long it might be before we see them again,” Captain Charlie finished. 

Alph blinked. Captain Charlie had seemed so confident, so sure of himself and of the mission when they took off. Alph was astonished to hear the Captain voicing the same doubts as he, in such an even voice. 

But of course, it made sense. Captain Charlie had been a space ranger. He had probably made similar departures time and time again, not knowing if some danger might take him away from his home for longer than he had expected. Not knowing when he would return home, if he would return at all.

“... Yeah,” Alph replied quietly. “That.”

For a long moment, Captain Charlie simply stared out the viewport, eyes presumably locked on the planet. Then, looking at Alph, he said, “Koppai is depending on us. We will return. We _must_ return.”

Alph just looked away and nodded.

He had never had much trouble sleeping away from home, and he had spent many nights already aboard the Drake when it was being built. But that night, Alph spent far too long awake in his cabin, quietly sobbing into his pillow. 

✿✿✿

“Alph? Are… Are you okay?”

At the sound of his name, Alph blinked awake. He was in the pilot’s seat of the _Drake_ , a multitude of lights and screens idly flashing various bits of information at him. 

“Huh?” He responded drowsily, turning the chair to face whoever had addressed him. “Y-yeah. I’m fine.”

“Really?” Brittany responded skeptically, leaning against the doorframe. “Because you weren’t answering your comms, and when I came in here to find you, it seemed an awful lot like you were asleep.”

Alph laughed a little sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment. “I- I guess I may have dozed off there for a few seconds.” What would Brittany, or Captain Charlie, think of him now, knowing that he couldn’t be trusted to stay awake at the helm?

“Yeah, you may have. Anyway, I was trying to comm you because it’s dinner time.” Brittany held out a glass full of thick, blue fruit juice. “You’re lucky you’re not Charlie. I probably would’ve just drank his rations for him if he were late.” Then she frowned a little. “Don’t tell the captain I said that.”

Laughing just a little, Alph accepted the juice. “Only if you don’t tell him I was asleep.”

Brittany just waved off Alph’s concern. “Just between you and me, I think Charlie’s the only one of us who has been getting enough sleep. And that’s only because Mr. I’m-A-Space-Ranger can pretty much fall asleep on command.”

“Yeah. He’s pretty well self-disciplined.”

Brittany frowned. “That’s… one way to put it, certainly.”

Alph didn’t really know how to respond to that, so he just kept drinking his juice ration. 

“Anyway,” Brittany stood up straight, “I should be getting back to my cabin. _Some_ of us don’t have the luxury of afternoon naps in nice, quiet cockpits, and actually have to try to sleep at night in our cabins.”

Alph laughed a little. “I guess I’ve got to stay up and finish going over these diagnostics reports.”

Brittany nodded. “That’s probably a good plan.” She turned to leave. “Goodnight, Alph.”

Turning back to the dashboard, Alph realized he was smiling just a bit, the first time he had really smiled since embarking on this mission. “‘Goodnight, Brittany.”

✿✿✿

One week on the _Drake_ , and everything was going as well as planned. The Koppaiates still had a good three weeks left before they made it to PNF-404, but this far, they had had no issues in their mission. 

Alph had managed to settle in, and no longer had any trouble sleeping. Though he still missed home, he had more or less come to terms with the distance, and managed to suppress and dull the nagging worry of a lack of a return. 

That didn’t mean his anxieties were over, though. Far from it, in fact. 

Alph was well aware that, of the three of them there, he was the least accomplished. Captain Charlie had a long history as a space ranger, and Brittany was famous for her botanical research. And Alph… he was just Alph. World-recognized engineer Drake’s grandson, sure, but that meant nothing as far as his own achievements. He was unproven, had no acclaim to fame, or even hard work in the eyes of his crewmates. Alph was also the youngest of the three, which he was sure only added to their doubts of his capability. And even though there was some sort of tension between Brittany and Captain Charlie that Alph didn’t really understand, he still knew they often shared a worried glance behind his back when he wasn’t looking. 

And Alph knew why. They didn’t know if he could be trusted to perform when their lives depended on it. And Alph didn’t blame them for that. He was nervous of it, too. 

He only hoped that, when the time came, he would be able to do what he needed to. 

✿✿✿

A week and a half, the Koppaiates has been steadily making their way towards Koppai’s salvation. 

It was the middle of the night- or, rather, what Alph’s circadian rhythm and the _Drake’s_ lighting systems determined was the middle of the night, as there really wasn’t any planetary rotation in the middle of space to determine night and day. 

Nonetheless, it was effectively the middle of the night aboard the _Drake_ , and Alph was sleeping soundly. He slept through the subtle shudder that ran through his grandfather’s beloved ship. He slept through the red emergency lighting suddenly flicking on. He even slept through the pneumatic hiss of his cabin’s door opening. 

He did not, however, sleep through Captain Charlie suddenly shaking him awake, shouting his name. “ _Alph! There’s something wrong with the ship_!”

Alph snapped awake, sitting up so fast he almost smashed his head into Captain Charlie’s. With only a glance at the captain, Alph sprang off his bunk and raced for the door. In the corridor, He was met by Brittany, who had an expression to match the captain’s. 

Alph merely ran by her, sprinting for the ladder down to the _Drake’s_ lower decks. Once on the floor with the _Drake’s_ main engine and warp drive, among other various vital mechanisms, Alph paused only to snatch up his toolbelt, then he was running along again, heading for the warp drive, which was evidently the problem, going by the flashing red lights on its control panel. On arriving there, he quickly unlatched the maintenance panel, only to be greeted by a cloud of smoke and a shower of sparks. 

Coughing and grimacing, Alph pulled away. Needless to say, that wasn’t good. Without the main warp drive the ship couldn’t travel in deep space, meaning that the _Drake_ was currently just drifting in the void. 

Which meant Alph had to fix it. Quickly. 

Hearing but not really processing what Captain Charlie said behind him, Alph quickly hit the emergency shutdown on the control panel, grabbed a screwdriver from his toolbelt, and leaned forward, reaching into the machine. The smoke seemed to be coming from one of the hyperspace booster transformers, so that was what Alph decided to check first, and he began to unscrew the top paneling of the ventilated box.

With the warp drive shut down, Alph could work without immediate fear of being electrocuted or flash fried. But that didn’t mean the system wasn’t delicate and he could proceed without concentration, not to mention the fact that making an error in the repairs could end up making things worse. So he put all his concentration on sorting through the smoldering wiring and damaged circuitry. 

Behind him, Brittany and Captain Charlie watched in apprehension, but Alph paid them little mind, only answering any queries with a distracted grunt. His full attention was on the machinery before him. 

Eventually, after completing what he thought were sufficient repairs, he pulled away, and turned the warp drive back on via the control panel. Then he turned to Brittany. “Will you go up to the cockpit and start the warp drive?”

Brittany just nodded. 

“Great! Comm me when you get there.”

Brittany gave Alph a slight frown. “Alph… you don’t have your comm unit. Or even you koppad.”

Alph blinked a little, and then realized what Brittany was talking about. When Captain Charlie had woken him up, he hadn’t paused to grab anything out of his cabin, so he didn’t have anything but his toolbelt, really…

And, Alph realized with a bit of an embarrassed blush, he hadn’t changed, either. He was still wearing his pajamas, a striped flannel shirt and matching pair of sweatpants (he wasn’t even wearing socks), both now thoroughly covered in grime and even a few singe marks from the sparks. 

“Oh,” he said softly, kind of at a loss for words. “Right.”

Brittany just shook her head, presumably exasperated. “I can use the _Drake’s_ intercom.”

“You could just comm me,” Captain Charlie suggested, “and I can relay anything to Alph.”

Brittany gave Captain Charlie a sidelong look. “That’ll be slower. I’ll just use the intercom.” And before Captain Charlie could argue, she was already heading for the ladder. 

“Ri-ight,” Alph said slowly. “Now we just wait for her to start the warp drive.”

Captain Charlie gave a single affirmative nod. “You think you fixed it, then?”

Alph nodded. “It was a little tricky, because some of those lines run directly to and from the cosmic drive key, and I had to reroute some of the power, so there’s a small chance it might knock out the key. But if it does, I shouldn’t have too much trouble getting that working again, too!”

Captain Charlie smiled, just a little. “Good.”

Then the intercom crackled to life, and Brittany’s voice rang out through the ship. “ _Alright, Alph, I’m in the cockpit. I’ll set the warp drive to the first setting_.”

In a moment, the big machine started humming, and Alph kept a wary eye on the control panel, waiting for any sort of warning message, so he could hit the emergency shutdown again. When no warning presented itself, he gave a small nod and relatched the maintenance panel. “Looks like it’s working!”

Captain Charlie smiled again, and Alph thought he saw just a glimmer of pride in the captain’s eyes. “Good job, Alph. Now go get yourself cleaned up, and get some sleep. It is still the middle of the night!”

“Yessir, Captain Charlie!”

✿✿✿

Alph’s repair work held up just fine, and the _Drake_ was quickly back on course. And Alph noticed a sort of shift in Captain Charlie and Brittany’s attitudes towards him, too, however subtle and unconscious it might’ve been. There were no more of those silent glances behind his back, no more of those quiet whispers of concern. Alph appreciated immensely this change. 

Only a day or so away from PNF-404, the biggest problem aboard the _Drake_ was the crew’s antsiness, the cabin fever and boredom that burned to be released from the confines of the ship. 

Alph was sitting in the bridge, his back to the wall, messing with his koppad. The powerful computers were incredibly versatile devices, and a skilled programmer could get them to do some extraordinary things. Currently, Alph had explained to Brittany when she asked, he was trying to connect the _Drake’s_ fruit analysis system to the koppads, so that the results of the analysis could be viewed at any moment on the koppads. On hearing this, Brittany, presumably out of boredom, had volunteered to sit in the _Drake’s_ analysis chamber so Alph could see if it was working. 

After finishing the program he had written and remotely loading it into the Drake’s computer, Alph opened a comm channel to Brittany. “Alright, Brittany! I’m going to start the program.”

“ _Okay_!” Came the response. “ _Let me know if it works_!”

Alph nodded, even though Brittany couldn’t see him, and ran the program. In a few moments, an image of Brittany popped up on his koppad. “Oh! Looks like it’s working.”

“ _What does it say_?”

“It says you’re a Koppaiate!”

“ _Oh, good,_ ” Brittany giggled over the comm, “ _I was wondering about that!_ ”

Alph just laughed.

“ _We should get the captain in here,_ ” Brittany continued, “ _and see if the_ Drake _has anything to say about him_!”

Alph only gave a small chuckle at Brittany’s remark, but made no addition. He respected Captain Charlie to think of insulting him, but Brittany missed no opportunity to do so. Of course, this only worked to benefit Alph’s respect for Captain Charlie, as the captain never reprimanded any of Brittany’s remarks. Alph knew he sure would have been annoyed if one of his crew started rampantly insulting him!

As if summoned by Brittany’s remark, Captain Charlie suddenly strode into the bridge. After a quick glance around, he turned to Alph. “Where’s Brittany?”

“In the fruit analysis chamber!” Alph replied, holding his Koppad out to Captain Charlie. “See?”

Captain Charlie looked sorely confused. “...Why is Brittany in the fruit analysis chamber?”

“She’s helping me test a new program for the Drake’s analysis system!”

Captain Charlie blinked a little. Then he just shook his head and opened a new comm line to Brittany. “Brittany, would you please report to the bridge?” And Alph heard a muffled affirmative through Captain Charlie’s comm. In a few minutes, she joined Alph and the captain on the bridge. 

After greeting Brittany with a small nod, Captain Charlie addressed both his crew. “Alright, in less than forty eight hours, we’ll be beginning our descent onto PNF-404. As captain, I’ve determined it to be wise to once again go over our plans, and make any preparations we can for landing.”

Alph nodded. He managed to keep a calm appearance, but he was just about bursting with excitement. Only two days until they were on an alien planet! 

As the trio went over the plans for landing, Alph’s excitement only grew. In less than two days, he would be walking on a planet no one before he and his crewmates had ever been on. He would be one of the first to see plants and animals and all variety of things no one else had ever seen before. And he, Alph, would be there to save Koppai.


	6. A Hero's Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Olimar is revered as a hero

Had they such a thing as a proverb, they might have referred to their current situation with such: “give a man a fish, he will be fed for a day, but teach a man to fish, and he will be fed for life.”  


Of course, the pikmin had no such things as proverbs, and besides, to apply such a proverb to their state of being would be to criticize their beloved leader who hailed from the stars. And that, they could never do.

When Leader had come, the pikmin had been on the brink of extinction. Leader, too, had been near death, as any could see his seed pod was badly wounded. But Leader’s arrival was fate, or providence, or perhaps even mere coincidence. Why or how the decision had been made for Leader to come when he did, it mattered not to the pikmin, only that he did, and he quickly proved himself deserving of his designation. 

Perhaps he had not really cared for them, and only wished to repair his seed pod, but such a thought never crossed their minds; Leader had saved them, and for that, they would follow where he led them. And under his guidance, they carried, they fought, they multiplied. 

They did not blame him, either, when he left with followers numbering one hundred, and returned, limping, followed only by one. However much it may have been home, it was still hostile, and they understood not every battle could always be won. 

What mattered was that, even when a battle was lost, in the end, Leader would still find victory for them. He might take another hundred with him to seek vengeance for those lost, returning with fewer than he had left with, but returning with another piece to heal his damaged seed pod. Or he might take with him a number for foraging, and, in time, more than make up those lost. 

With Leader’s guidance, they thrived. 

But then Leader left. His seed pod sufficiently healed to take flight, he soared into the night sky and vanished among the stars. 

They still did not blame him. From the stars Leader had come, and to the stars Leader returned. What business he had in different realms was not for them to know; Leader was beyond them. That was why Leader was Leader. 

They had more than learned that the hard way.

They had watched him fly away, as the night darkened. And when the beasts came, the monsters with jaws strong enough to crush them in a single snap, they had turned to keep doing as Leader had had them do. Yet while for a time they fended for themselves, sticking together, working together, surviving together, ultimately, they could not do for themselves what Leader had done for them. And as the days slipped by, as the moon waxed and waned, more and more were lost, without being replaced. They simply couldn’t recreate Leader’s strength, Leader’s speed, Leader’s accuracy, or, most importantly, Leader’s cleverness. 

Because Leader had seen things they had not. Leader had known when to fight and when to retreat. Leader knew which paths would yield a nutrient-rich blossom, and which a black and orange monstrosity. Leader told them when it became too dangerous to stay, and when it was safe to return. And without Leader’s cleverness, they could not hope to survive. 

And then, less than one hundred remained. Less than fifty, less than fifteen, less than ten, now only five, five of them struggling as best they could to prolong the end. 

One always stayed behind. A failsafe of sorts, if the rest perished, though what one could do that four could not they didn’t know. 

But four, four could do nothing. They tried to do what Leader had done, they tried to fight, fight to bring back to their seed pod the material needed to make more of them, but without Leader, they knew not how. 

And now, a beast, red and white and yellow, was going to be their downfall. It was a great sorrow; a creature so small compared to the terrors they had brought down before Leader was going to be their end. But what else could they do? Their seed pod needed the food to be of any use, and this was the way Leader had gotten it. 

So they charged once again, running at the beast, only to be shaken off again, and again, and again. And every time, the beast moved to devour its assailants, only for them to just run out of reach before it could. 

But they could not run forever, and soon they would grow weary. The creature would have its way, and they would be no more. 

But then, then there was a noise! A familiar, wonderful, amazing noise! It was that of a whistle, of leader’s whistle, calling them to his side! They responded immediately, running to stand beside Leader, and with Leader’s quick whistle and quicker arm, soon the beast was fallen. 

And then the four came back to Leader’s side, and they peered up at him. They gazed through the clear sphere that encased his head, and watched the bob of the light at the end of his strange grey stem. They brushed their fingertips across his yellow-beige skin and grasped at his red, five fingered hands.

Almost as if they were unsure that he was really there, that Leader had really returned. 

And then, amid their excited cries of “ _Leader, Leader!_ ” Leader knelt down and pulled them close, wrapping his arms around them.

And just like that, they knew that it would be okay. Because Leader had returned, and surely, victory could not be far behind. 


	7. Growing in Other Directions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Koppaiates encounter a new species

Today, the Koppaiates were returning to the Garden of Hope. There was still some fruit to be gathered there, and this time, returning with Captain Charlie, they were sure they could add to their juice supply exponentially, and maybe even find some hint to the cosmic drive key’s whereabouts. **  
**

Alph was, as usual, at the helm of the _Drake_ , scoping out the best landing place. Thus far, it seemed such a spot was the very same place he had landed the ship when first seeking out Brittany. Then, he hadn’t so much been looking for a good landing spot, but merely somewhere close to her signal. 

But, now, coincidentally, it seemed that was the best landing spot anyway. 

Alph panned over the map onscreen one more time, just to be sure. No better landing spot caught his eye, but something else certainly did grab his attention, something he hadn’t really paid attention to on his previous scans of the topography. The image was small on the _Drake’s_ map, nestled under some tall foliage in the northern part of the Garden, but the longer Alph looked at it, the more certain he was that he knew the familiar shape. Still, the unlikelyhood of it being what he thought was so great, he couldn’t be entirely sure. 

“H-hey, um… Captain Charlie?” Alph called, seeking a second opinion. He pointed to the map as Charlie approached. “What do you think that looks like?”

Charlie leaned in, his brow furrowing as he looked at it. After a moment, the sudden widening of his eyes, the sharp hiss of breath between his teeth was all the signal that was needed to tell he had come to the same conclusion as Alph. “I… I would say it’s a spaceship.”

“A spaceship?” Brittany asked from across the room, where she was still pulling on her suit. “Another one? Did someone get here before us?”

“Seems that way,” Charlie responded. “Or, at least, around the same time as us.”

Alph looked to the captain. “Should I land the _Drake_ nearby?”

Charlie nodded. “We might as well introduce ourselves, and try to make a good impression.”

Brittany muttered something under her breath about how it shouldn’t be Charlie to make first contact if they were going for a _good_ impression, then, but it wasn’t quite loud enough to reach the other two’s ears.

✿✿✿

Alph landed the _Drake_ a safe distance away from the other ship, and after calling out a band of pikmin, the trio made their way towards the other ship. 

But as they neared it, it quickly became clear something was wrong. The ship was nose-down in the ground, its hull scorched and stripped, the interior of a ship clearly exposed in some places. Wreckage was strewn about all across the ground, and there was a trench cut in a long line where the ship must have impacted the ground and then slid. 

Worst of all, the pikmin seemed nervous. They were unnaturally quiet, not keeping up their usual enthusiastic chatter and sticking close together. 

And as the Koppaiates approached the wreck, their pace slowed considerably. 

Eventually, Alph took the lead. As the engineer of the crew, he could tell a lot about the ship from a single look that the others couldn’t, and some of his nervousness was dampened by his curiosity in the alien vessel. 

“It… looks Hocotatian-made, I think,” he relayed to his companions. “An older one, too; it’s still got the whole ‘ _aerodynamic rocket_ ’ design. Looks like… I think it’s a deep-space freighter, probably a single passenger ship. The crash is… it must have hit the ground from freefall, probably from the upper atmosphere, though… I think it’s probably been here a long time. Most of the shielding is gone. Looks like a lot of the equipment is missing, too, though-“

Alph froze as there was a _crunch_ underfoot. Looking down, he saw something glinting in the mossy ground. 

“Alph?” Brittany asked as she and Charlie came to stand beside him. 

Alph didn’t answer, just knelt down, looking for whatever he had stepped on. After a moment, he came up with a clear shard of-...

... _Oh_. 

“Is that glass?” Charlie asked. 

“No,” Alph said quietly, turning the shard over in his gloved hands, careful to not let the sharp edges cut his suit. “It’s polycarbonate.” He didn’t look up to meet his crewmates’ blank looks, instead reaching down to unearth more pieces. “There’s-... probably more of it nearby, too. I don’t think-... Whoever it was, they would’ve had to land pretty hard for-... for their helmet to shatter this badly.”

There was a long moment of silence as his companions processed what he had just said.

Finally, “Are you sure that’s what it is?” The quiet plea that Alph was wrong was still audible in Brittany’s voice. She may not have had the greatest opinions of people in general, but that didn’t mean she wanted to find some poor person dead of oxygen poisoning.

Unfortunately, Alph was certain. “Yeah. Same stuff our helmets are made of.”

For a good long moment, there was silence among the Koppaiates. 

Then, looking over his shoulder at the wreck, Charlie said, “We should check the crash.”

Both Alph and Brittany recoiled at the suggestion. The very thought of setting foot in a derelict ship that had crashed there long ago, possibly still with the remains of some crew…

But Captain Charlie was a veteran space ranger. This wasn’t the first, nor the worst crash he had ever seen, and, he added, everything had to be inspected in case any of it could be if use. They were in a hostile environment, and everything that could provide them with an edge was to be claimed. 

“Besides,” he added in a slightly more sympathetic voice, “we ought to see if they left any sort of log, or journal. To try to figure out who they were, and… Well. I can tell you from experience, it’s better to know the fate of a loved one than to be left wondering forever.”

Though Alph and Brittany hated the thought of being such bearers of bad news, they couldn’t argue with that, and with significantly lower spirits, they followed after Captain Charlie towards the crashed ship. 

✿✿✿

Captain Olimar had, in fact, left a voyage log. 

On arriving at the derelict ship, the lettering “ _S. S. DOLPHIN_ ” still faintly visible on its scorched, scraped hull, the trio of Koppaiates had left their group of nervous pikmin to board the ship. Once inside the small main bridge, Alph had found the main computer to, surprisingly, still be functional. He had navigated to the captain’s log file. Inside, there were two folders, one marked “notes,” and  the other “logs.” Inside the logs folder, there were a mere twenty nine entries.

At Charlie’s quiet direction, Alph opened the final log entry.

“ _Entry 29_ ”

“ _Tomorrow, is the day my life-support system fails. If I do not recover all my parts, I have no choice but to try to blast off. Missing a few parts may not affect my attempts to return to Hocotate...but then again, it may. At any rate, I must try to recover the remaining parts tomorrow._ "  
  


“ _I... feel so very tired._ ”

“That… doesn’t tell us a whole lot about them,” Brittany murmured. “Except maybe they were a Hocotatian.”

Biting his lip, Alph selected a different log. 

“ _Entry 14_ ”

“ _Looking from this planet into the skies above, I see the pale white moon floating overhead. It brings to mind memories of the moon from back home. I bet that even now my wife and children are sitting at home, gazing up at our pale red moon... Hang on, dear ones! Your Olimar will return some day!_ ”

In that moment, all three Koppaiates felt something of the same grief. It was not to be so; Captain Olimar had perished, and his family would never see him again. 

Almost out of a sense of duty, then, Charlie took over the computer terminal, and opened the first log. And from there, they read, from the beginning, the final trials of Captain Olimar. 

They read his accounts of his crash landing the first time, to awaken on a strange planet, his ship broken and incapable of flight. Of how he discovered the pikmin, and with their help, he recovered his ship’s engine, and at least managed to reach the relative safety of low orbit for the night. 

How he had a mere thirty days of life support battery to recover all his ship’s missing pieces and escape the planet. 

They read his discovery of yellow and blue pikmin, of his valiant battles with the indigenous monsters of the planet to recover the pieces of his ship.

Of his hope on the recovery of every ship part, and his despondency on the days without success. 

And they read of his longing for home, of his love for his wife and children, as he watched himself growing thinner in the mirror and only thought of the worry his absence was causing his family. 

When they had finished reading Captain Olimar’s voyage log, they sat for a moment, in silence. 

“I… suppose we’ll have to find his family when we get back,” Alph eventually said in a whisper, barely meeting his crewmates’ eyes. 

Charlie just nodded in solemn agreement. There was another long moment of silence. 

Finally, Captain Charlie turned away from the computer. “At any rate, we’re wasting time here. We _are_ on a mission, after all.” Being a space ranger in the war, he had seen his fair share of death, and more than once had to postpone mourning for the sake of work. 

Alph and Brittany quietly agreed, and turned to follow Charlie out of the ship. But when they got there, they found the pikmin they had left were not waiting patiently for their return. In fact, the entire group was marching away, as if led by one of the Koppaiates themselves. 

Or… maybe a new type of pikmin? There was, at the front of the crew, a bright red flower that rose a bit higher than all the others- about the height that the antenna of one of the Koppaiates’ helmets rose. 

Regardless, whoever it was, they were leading off one hundred pikmin, possibly into danger. 

Running forward, closely followed by Alph and Brittany, Charlie let out a sharp blast on his whistle, calling for the pikmin to stop. The pikmin, being very well tuned to the more urgent tone of the whistle, froze, and disbanded, leaving the would-be leader alone in front of the charging Koppaiates. 

All three of them quickly slid to a halt, however, on seeing the figure in front of them. 

For he stood with the same confidence and determination they had come to expect of him, and though his suit was dirty and torn, and his face smeared with mud, and his helmet long gone, swapped for a stem and flower, there was no mistaking it. 

Standing before them, pikmin gathered about him and looking to him for instruction, was the very same recently deceased Captain Olimar. 


	8. Best Wishes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the 17th anniversary of Pikmin's release is celebrated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Originally posted on Oct. 26, 2018)

Today had, all things considered, been a pretty good day. Olimar and Louie had managed to unearth several rather valuable treasures, all without losing a single pikmin. And they had done so in a timely enough manner that, at the end of the day, they had had a few minutes to sit and watch the sunset, before it got too dangerous. **  
**

It had been a beautiful sunset, too, all orange and pink and gold, almost making it look as if the tops of the enormous trees were on fire. The sunsets on Hocotate weren’t nearly as dramatic as they were here.

As dangerous as it was, Olimar had to admit, the pikmin planet was astonishingly beautiful. 

This thought occurred to him, not for the first time, as he stood at one of the ship’s viewports, peering down at the planet he orbited. From here, he could see the great blue curve of the oceans blanketing the planet’s surface, with vibrant green splotches of continents mixed in, capped off with the two permanently frigid landscapes at the north and south poles. It was… an incredibly different view than the orbit around Hocotate, and Olimar couldn’t deny the fact that he was just a little jealous for his planet of this one’s lush wilderness. 

“ _Captain Olimar,_ ” The ship’s electronic voice snapped him out of his musings, “ _I thought you might like to know that while you were working today, I received a message addressed to you. I have just finished downloading the included content for you._ ”

Turning away from the window, Olimar frowned. _Included content…?_ The sheer distance between the pikmin planet and Hocotate made it a challenge to send files much larger than just a few megabytes, hence why the messages from home were rarely longer than a page or so, and typically text only. And if the ship received the message some time earlier today, and only just now finished downloading it…

It made Olimar wonder what could possibly be inside. 

“Alright,” he replied to the ship as he headed for the main computer, “bring it up onscreen.”

And in just a second, Olimar was greeted with a very large picture of his family, all smiling excitedly, and held between his son and daughter, Sage on the left and Rosemary on the right, was a large piece of paper, and handwritten on it in bright lettering was “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAD!” 

For a long time, Olimar just sat there, a funny feeling in his chest, staring at the picture. His… _birthday_?

Truth be told, he had sort of forgotten about it. With no obligations to keep aside from collecting treasure, Olimar hadn’t had much need to keep track of time beyond the hour of the day. And whether he had realized it or not, he had long since stopped keeping track of the days of the week, or even what month it was. The only way he had really known time was even passing was by the daily voyage log he wrote. 

And he had not even realized when he woke up this morning that he was a year older. 

Eyes just a little moist, Olimar scrolled down to read the message.

“ _Happy Birthday, my dear Olimar! I do hope you’re still doing okay, and that you had a good day today, despite being so far away. Unfortunately, we can’t send you much more than this message, and with the picture, it might not even reach you until tomorrow, so I don’t have much space to write here. But we wanted you to know that we’re thinking of you, and we’re eagerly awaiting your return._ ”

“- _Your loving wife, Petra_ ”

“ _Ps. We got you a birthday present, so hurry home to open it up!_ ”

Smiling, Olimar leaned back in his seat. Even if he had forgotten, his family had still remembered his birthday, and even if he wasn’t home, they still wished him the best. 

“Ship,” Olimar called, still smiling just a little, “you have a printer onboard, right?”

“ _Correct. Though I must warn you, paper is… rather limited, and if the president knew you were wasting it…_ ”

Olimar just rolled his eyes. “This is _not_ a waste of paper. Go ahead and print out this picture for me.”

“ _Affirmative. Oh, and Captain Olimar?_ ”

“Yes?” Olimar stood up, turning to go retrieve the picture. He planned to pin it up on the small bulletin board in his cabin. 

“ _...Happy birthday._ ”

Smiling, Olimar left the bridge, the lights shutting off behind him. “Thank you.”

Yes, today had been a good day. 


	9. Return Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Olimar flies back

“Alright, Louie! We’re on our way home!” **  
**

Olimar got no response from his coworker, but wasn’t really expecting one to begin with. For the months they had been on the pikmin planet, he had come to expect silence as a response, and was often surprised when Louie _did_ decide to respond. But that was okay; it was nice to have someone to listen, if nothing else. 

Regardless, Olimar wasn’t surprised by Louie’s silence, even at his excited declaration. For they were on their way back to Hocotate, now, all ten thousand pokos of the debt recovered in treasures, and a mere few weeks before they would be on their home planet, with their families. 

Olimar could barely wait. This was the most excited he’d been since managing to escape the planet the first time. Despite the fatigue in his body, Olimar could hardly sit still. Yet he forced himself to stay seated in the pilot’s seat, a tense, white knuckled grip on the control stick of the ship. He didn’t want to leave it for a second, _not a second_ , to make sure absolutely _nothing_ could slow the ship’s flight home. 

Carefully, paying close attention to the ship’s radar, Olimar readied the cosmic warp drive. As soon as he engaged it, they would be right on course for Hocotate. Nothing could stop them now, they were going to return triumphant and pay off the company’s debt. And finally, after so many months, Olimar would finally, _finally_ be able to see his family. 

And it was all thanks to the pikmin. Without the pikmin, they wouldn’t have been able to collect any treasure, much less as much as they did. Stars, without the pikmin, Olimar would be _dead_ \- not just with how many times he had fought off fierce beasts for treasure, but the first time he had crashed on the planet, it had only been thanks to the pikmin that he had managed to repair the _Dolphin_. 

As the ship began to accelerate and the stars began to stretch out around them, Olimar turned back to look at the planet, sighing just a little. He could almost see the pikmin gazing up at him, red, blue, and yellow, waiting for his orders. He could almost see—

And then something occurred to him. He could _see_ the planet, directly behind him. 

He was in the cockpit. Behind the cockpit was the copilot cockpit. The cockpit Louie was supposed to be sitting in, _right now_. The cockpit Louie should have been sitting in, _blocking Olimar’s view of the planet_. 

Olimar had just enough time to shout “ _Louie is missing!_ ” And then the ship was rocketing into warp speed, the starlight stretched out into thin lines around them. 

“ _Turn back!_ ” Olimar shouted, grabbing at the control stick frantically. “We left Louie behind! _Turn back! TURN BACK!_ ”

But it was too late. “ _Captain Olimar, we have already entered warpspeed. To exit now, not at our planned destination, we run the risk of exiting into an asteroid field, or on a collision course with a star! And then we would all be dead._ ”

“No, _no_! We can’t just _leave_ him!”

“ _We have to._ ”

“N-no… we _can’t_ -...”

But there was nothing Olimar could do.

And suddenly, burning in the back of his mind, the memory of his own stay there burned to life. The terror that first day when he looked to the sky, and realized it was out of his reach. The strain of the constant press of time, ticking away until his life support ran out. The dread that set in when he realized _help wasn’t coming._ The panic that set in those final days, the worry that he wouldn’t be able to make it. The long days that somehow always still seemed too short, and the longer nights lying awake that couldn’t be short enough. The catching his reflection on the surface of the water, and realizing he barely recognized himself, didn’t know the look in his eyes or the furrow in his brow. The loneliness, the biting, tearing loneliness, eating away at his very soul, until he could barely look to the stars without starting to cry, cry for the family who would never see him again.

Olimar sank into his seat, head dropping. “ _We-... we can’t leave him there…_ ”

But there was nothing he could do.

.✿✿✿

The few weeks in warpspeed were some of the most difficult Olimar had ever faced. He could barely sleep; every time he closed his eyes, he could only wonder how Louie was faring the nights on the planet. He could barely eat; how could he possibly sit around and put food in his own mouth when Louie would have to hunt for every meal, and possibly fend off predators while eating it, too? He could barely sit still; he knew Louie would have to fight every second for his life. Yet Olimar could do nothing, nothing but aimlessly wander from room to room aboard the ship, desperation clawing at his insides. 

At least, when he had been there, he had had some hope. The hope that, even if help wasn’t coming, he could still repair the _Dolphin_. He could still escape, if he worked hard enough. But Louie had no such hope. He had no ship with him, and even if he did, Olimar doubted Louie knew enough about ships to repair one. And Louie knew how warpspeed worked. He knew that once you were going, you couldn’t stop. So he must have known, when Olimar didn’t return by the first day, that Olimar wasn’t coming- _couldn’t_ come back. 

And Olimar hated that. Not just that he had left Louie behind. But that he had left Louie there _without hope_ , and he couldn’t go back. 

He couldn’t go back. He had left Louie behind, and there was nothing he could do. 

✿✿✿

By the time the ship arrived at Hocotate, Olimar was in an almost zombielike state. A combination of lack of sleep, lack of appetite, and constant worry and guilt had worn him down to the point where he could barely focus beyond whatever was immediately in front of him. 

On landing in the Hocotate Freight shipyard, Olimar found the president waiting for him. The next few hours were spent unloading the treasures. Olimar was too exhausted to argue for any other course of action. 

Then the president was saying something about Hocotate Freight having been saved thanks to Olimar and his treasure hunting. Olimar mumbled something about how much treasure there had been. 

The president got excited. “ _What_?? There’s still _more_ treasure! ...Good gravy! If we collect it all, we’ll be _filthy rich_!!” He turned a little. “ _Louie_!”

And then he stopped. Olimar halted, too, something in him waking up just enough to think a little clearer. _Louie_!

“What?” The president was saying. “You _lost_ him?!”

Yes. _Yes_ , Olimar had _lost_ Louie, so he needed to go back to the planet _immediately_ —

“In that case, I shall go!”

Olimar froze. “Wh- what?”

“Come on, Olimar!” The president was already almost to the ship, which had, in the time it took to sort out all the debts, been extravagantly plated in gold with the extra money. “We’re going to go back!”

Olimar didn’t argue, just climbed back in the ship, and readied to take off yet again. It didn’t matter that his and the president’s agendas weren’t exactly the same. All that mattered was that they were going back. 

_Hold on, Louie. I’m coming._

✿✿✿

On the long trip back to the pikmin planet, something occurred to Olimar that, in his exhausted state, he hadn’t noticed before.

When he had first returned to Hocotate, the president had been there to greet him. The president had helped him unload the treasure, and settled all the debts, and determined that Olimar should return to the planet. 

_Yet it wasn’t until he was calling on Louie to do something that the president had noticed Louie’s absence._

The president had been there- _right there_ \- when the ship landed. There was no way anyone could have gotten on or off without him seeing. Yet he hadn’t questioned it when only Olimar had emerged from the ship. He had made no inquiry about Louie’s absence. 

_He hadn’t cared about Louie until he had thought Louie had some use._

The longer Olimar thought about it, the angrier he got. The president didn’t care about Louie. He probably didn’t care about Olimar, either, except for that Olimar kept bringing him treasure.

And come to think of it, the first time Olimar had returned from the pikmin planet, after longer than a month’s absence, at the suggestion that the planet had treasure, the president had immediately sent him off again. Olimar hadn’t even had time to let his family know he was alive. 

At the time, Olimar had just assumed it had been that the president had been desperate. He was in debt and scared. So Olimar has forgiven him. 

But now? Olimar wasn’t so sure. 

Now, he thought, if it came down to it, if the situation was dire enough, and he had to choose between saving Louie or the president-...

 _Stop thinking like that_ , he told himself. _You’re better than this._

But when the president commed Olimar to ask if there was anything on board besides instant space noodles, Olimar just grit his teeth, his grip tightening on the ship’s control stick, and didn’t answer. 

✿✿✿

It was a long time before Olimar found Louie. Deep in a cave full of dweevils, he was, and he didn’t look to be in too good condition. 

He was sitting amid a pile of treasure, unmoving. The ship was saying something about how brave Louie must’ve been to make it this deep in the cave alone, but Olimar wasn’t really listening. When the ship said something about hurrying before Louie’s life signs faded, Olimar couldn’t have agreed more, but for that he _was_ actually hurrying, rather than wasting time talking. 

And then, it appeared. The massive creature, the biggest dweevil Olimar had ever seen, with strange weapons affixed to its limbs, and strength like that of a mythical titan. 

A titan dweevil. 

The battle was long, and hard, and Olimar’s spite for the president only grew when the president got knocked over, and then decided it was too dangerous for him to keep fighting, but apparently just fine for Olimar and his crew of pikmin. By the end of it, Olimar was down to a mere thirty two pikmin remaining, and they looked as ragged and exhausted as he felt. 

But now, as the titan dweevil was defeated, dissolved away into that weird blue ooze, Olimar was finally able to reach his lost coworker. 

Louie appeared to be okay, though still unconscious, lying on the ground. Olimar approached slowly, wary of any more attacks, softly calling out Louie’s name. On receiving no response nor being surprise attacked again, Olimar knelt down and reached out a hand to Louie’s shoulder, gently shaking the other Hocotatian. Louie mumbled something indistinguishable, but was otherwise unresponsive. 

After a moment, Olimar called over a couple pikmin to help carry Louie- the ship’s research pod would carry him safely back to the cargo hold. Here, Olimar got a first glimpse of Louie’s condition- while before, when napping, it had taken three pikmin at least to carry him back to the ship, now, it took only one. Louie had lost weight. 

But that could be dealt with later. Now, Olimar gathered his few remaining pikmin and led them and the president to the geyser that would ferry them back to the surface. 

✿✿✿

As soon as the ship was safely in warpspeed, having once again said goodbye to the pikmin and blasted off, Olimar hurried down to the cargo hold to check on Louie. Right as he got there, it seemed, Louie was just beginning to awaken. 

Olimar hurried over and knelt down beside him, helping him to sit up and pull off his helmet. “Easy,” he advised. “You’ve had a rough few months.”

When Louie spoke- if the dry, hoarse mumbling could be called speaking- it was merely a disoriented, slow, “ _Ol-i-mar_ …?”

Silent with relief, Olimar only nodded. 

Then, suddenly, he found himself subject to an astonishingly tight hug, wrapped in Louie’s shaky grip. Louie was almost sobbing, too, letting out sharp, shaky breaths. 

Olimar just sighed and returned the hug, holding on to Louie the way he would one of his own children, particularly when they were scared. “It’s alright, Louie. We’re on our way home. We’re on our way back to Hocotate.”

“We’re on our way back home.”


	10. Repetition and Reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Olimar follows routine

Sunrise once again. 

Olimar exited the ship, Louie close behind, and walked over to the onion. He called out a crew of assorted pikmin, enough of each kind to handle any type of environmental hazard, as he didn’t yet know what challenges the day would hold. 

Most days had been like this, rising on the planet to do the same thing, day after day. Olimar had a routine, by now. Wake up, eat breakfast. Change into his spacesuit. Land the ship. Call the pikmin. Take care of any beasts that had wandered too close to the landing site, and carry them back to feed the onion. 

It was funny, almost. He’d never thought he’d settle into life on the pikmin planet. Never thought the place could house such a mundane daily routine. It was almost like getting up in the morning to go to a desk job. 

Not that he really knew what that was like; he had signed up as a mechanic right away to get on a ship and into space. 

Maybe more like how he remembered getting up to go to school in the morning. A mindless pattern in the morning that got him where he needed to be, when he needed to be there. 

‘There,’ of course, being not a classroom, but today, the hungry bulborb that had apparently not gotten enough to eat in the night, and was doing a little morning hunting, its intended prey the pikmin Olimar had just called out. 

With practiced ease, Olimar threw several pikmin at it, landing them squarely on its head, stunning it and bringing it down for the rest of the crew to swarm it. 

Bulborbs were big and had the potential to be dangerous, but with just a few pikmin, Olimar had nothing to fear. 

The first time, and several subsequent times after that Olimar had encountered Bulborbs, they had held immeasurable terror for him. How many pikmin could he lose to their jaws before bringing them down? What happened if the bulborb turned out victorious, rather than Olimar?

But long exposure and repeated encounters had long since stripped the captain of any fear of the red and white spotted creatures. He knew how to fight them, almost reflexively swung his arm in the just right arc to land a pikmin between its eyes. Sure, they could be dangerous if not handled properly, but you could choke any time while eating, crash any time while driving, electrocute yourself while repairing the ship. The bulborbs held no more fear to him than any of these ordinary tasks. 

Because, in a way, that’s what this had become. Another ordinary task, just part of the routine. Get up, get dressed, go to work. 

Land the ship, call the pikmin, fight the bulborb.

Just another ordinary day. 

From there, it was no great challenge to throw ten pikmin to collect a sunseed berry. Another one hundred seventy pokos collected. 

But hardly anything to write home about. 

For writing home was, after all, the one true high point of Olimar’s day. The evening, when the ship notified him of any new messages from his family, received during the day. Even if it was just another part of the cycle- familiar words written in a familiar hand, beseeching again that he come home- it still served to remind him of his purpose here. 

As long as his family asked him to come home, Olimar knew he could stay. Because it was for his family that he stayed, that he got up in the morning, that he went to work, that he fought the bulborb. 

That bulborb earned his paycheck, that bulborb fed his family. 

And if his family was okay, Olimar knew he could be okay, too. 

So, reflecting on this, it was with a placated smile that he whistled his pikmin to his side, and marched off to fight the next bulborb. 


	11. Shooting Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Olimar makes a wish

It had more or less been grounded into Olimar’s brain by now that gold was a very bad color. Golden riches, golden liquid, golden light, all of it. No good could come of anything golden. 

Not that he consciously thought of this as he ran. The only thought pounding through his head, matching every footfall, was the repeating mantra; _run, escape, run, escape._

Had he not been fighting for every breath, struggling to keep up the pace, he might’ve reflected on how quickly everything had gone to hell. How quickly it had all been over, how their fighting chance had amounted to nothing so quickly. 

They had been so confident in the beginning. So sure of their strength. They had been cautious, sure. None doubted that it was going to be a hard battle, and none were oblivious to the very real possibility of casualties. 

But they were fighters, they were champions, they were _Smashers_! They had come from all manner of universes to meet in combat to test their strength against each other. And they were victors, all of them. They had all overcome impossible trials in their own worlds, and all beaten impossible odds. They were the best of the best. 

And just like that, they were swept aside, cast away, destroyed. They had not stood even a chance in a million. 

A brilliant beam slammed down beside the captain, making the ground shake. Olimar nearly stumbled, but regained his footing quickly enough and pressed on, narrowly avoiding being struck down by the next streak golden light. 

Immediately behind him, his young Koppaiate companion kept pace, Alph struggling just as much to keep out of the way of the deadly beams. And behind Alph, there were—

Well. Not any more. Olimar could still hear the small screams cut short, echoing in his ears. 

That time, it had somehow been more painful than when he heard it back on PNF-404.

Maybe it was because he couldn’t fight back. Because no matter how many pikmin he had with him, he couldn’t possibly fend off this terrifying power, and he couldn’t stop more from being lost. 

He could only run and run and run, and never look back. 

And then-

“Olima- _a-aaAAAH_ -“

Olimar didn’t look back, not even when he heard the impact, and the sudden lack of a voice. 

Olimar had always had a soft spot for Alph. He enjoyed the Koppaiate’s company more so than the other two who had rescued him so long ago. Alph had a certain eagerness, a willingness to learn that Olimar was more than happy to encourage, and there was an all too familiar youthful wonder and excitement for adventure in Alph’s eyes. Olimar would have been hard pressed to dislike anyone who reminded him so much of his own dear son. 

And now, now Olimar couldn’t even look back. He could only hear Alph’s scream cut short, only blink back tears, whisper a quiet apology in his head, and try to run a little faster. 

It was pointless, of course. Olimar was only feet ahead of the next golden blaze to slam into the ground, and the impact was enough to send him sprawling. Lying facedown on the ground, he knew he only had seconds, _seconds_ before…

He happened to glance skyward. There, in the darkening night, he happened to see a pinprick of light, a streak of starlight. 

A shooting star. 

In all this chaos, this doom, this carnage, it was a spark of familiarity. Olimar remembered lying on a hilltop, back on Hocotate, his wife- still his fiancée, then- lying beside him, wrapped in a quiet peace, as a single shooting star arced overhead. 

Olimar had made a wish then. A wish he had kept close to his heart and held on to for decades, a wish of hope, of a bright future. 

And on the shooting star now above him, as he lay on the ground, the world crumbling around him, Olimar made a wish. 

And with a closed eyes, a quiet smile, and an overwhelming faith in that shooting star, Olimar offered no resistance as his world was engulfed in gold. 


	12. An Additional Kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the pikmin help Olimar conquer another challenge he cannot face alone

  


There was something wrong with Leader Olimar. 

All the pikmin who had accompanied him beyond the onions had seen it quite plainly. He was acting funny, his behavior was all wrong, and their was something kind of disheveled about his appearance. 

He looked sort of pale, his eyes looked sort of puffy and bruisedish, and the normally neat tufts of fur on his head were a wild mess. His normal efficiency in guiding the pikmin was rather lacking, too; very little had been brought back to the onions, hardly any new sprouts were grown, and very little of the strange coveted materials Leader Olimar had them carry back to his conical onion- the shyp, he called it- were discovered. Not to mention the number of pikmin lost; Leader Olimar’s strategic prowess in combat seemed to have taken a sharp dive. 

The pikmin didn’t blame him for this, though. There were still so many more of them now than before Leader Olimar had found them, and they had only his efforts to thank for their growth. And besides, it was clear some outside influence was affecting Leader Olimar- they couldn’t fathom that he would ever intentionally lessen their ranks, so it had to be that something else was fogging his mind. 

Of course, there was little they could do about this during the day, when they were with him. whatever it was that was harming him didn’t seem to be directly attacking him then, and all the pikmin could do was maybe offer a comforting pat on the arm when he looked so weary, or carry him back to the safety of the onions when he closed his eyes to rest. 

And during the night, well, Leader Olimar was in his onion with Leader Louie, and the red, blue, and yellow pikmin were in their own onions. 

But the purple and white pikmin, lacking on onion of their own, were allowed to settle somewhere deep within Leader Olimar’s onion. Granted, it wasn’t the same place as Leader Olimar, as apparently his onion was very big on the inside, and they didn’t really know how to navigate about his onion, but they were in his onion, and so was he, somewhere. 

And, conversing among themselves, it was decided that Leader Olimar needed help, and it was up to them to help him. 

That meant finding him, though, and they weren’t entirely sure how to do that. Currently, they were in a large chamber with all the resources Leader Olimar had had them bring back to his onion, because, apparently, his onion only stored resources instead of making more Leader Olimars. Maybe there could only be one Leader Olimar at a time, and so the onion just stored the materials to make another until they were needed? 

Well, regardless. Where they were in the onion wasn’t where Leader Olimar was, so they needed to find him. They had already thoroughly explored the room in search of him, but to no avail. All that sat in here was the collection of objects. And the only way out, it seemed, were a series of cold, hard branches grown out of the onion’s wall in one spot, arranged parallel in such a way that one could, with some difficulty, climb them to exit through a hole above. 

But they had to help Leader Olimar, so a group of ten pikmin, five white and five purple, made their way up the ladder to the next chamber of the onion. It was slow going- the white pikmin were too short to easily scale the rungs, and the purple pikmin were too slow and heavy to have much easier going- but they were determined. 

But the next level didn’t appear to be housing Leader Olimar either. There were lots of moving colors on big, rectangular sections of the wall, and a lot of shelves with flashy, glowing lights and the like, but no Leader Olimar. So they kept climbing. 

Eventually, after much searching, the little expeditionary force of pikmin did find their leader. He was curled up in a much smaller room that had been sectioned off by what first appeared to be a small, recessed bit of wall, but turned out to be a moving wall- an entryway. The room itself was rather small, and didn’t have much inside it. And the only things that were of much interest to the pikmin was the soft, nestlike shelf where Leader Olimar was curled up and, of course, Leader Olimar himself. 

Leader Olimar was lying on his side, back to the pikmin, knees just about to his chest, and hands clutching at his head. He was breathing hard, and each breath was rough and uneven. And, well, except for a select few things the Pikmin had picked up, they didn’t understand much of Leader Olimar’s language. But the noise he was making was a universally understood one, one of fear, and pain. 

Something was very, very wrong with Leader Olimar. 

Intent on helping their clearly wounded leader, the ten pikmin rushed forward towards Leader Olimar’s nest. But when they got there, they hesitated. It was clear that Leader Olimar was suffering, but he didn’t appear to have any wounds, especially none that should have been causing this sort of distress. 

Unless…

None of the assembled pikmin had seen it themselves, but there were whispers among them of a horrifying creature somewhere in the world that could mess with the minds of pikmin, changing their skin to a dark violet, rotting their leaves with a sickly fungus, and turning them on their siblings in an instant.

Maybe something similar was affecting Leader Olimar? And that was why he wasn’t working so well to help the pikmin as usual?

Well. As it was, it only took a bit of roughing up to get an infected pikmin back to normal. So, working together, the pikmin shook Leader Olimar back and forth. 

After a couple seconds, Leader Olimar groaned and shifted, slowly sitting up and rubbing his eyes. After that, he blinked a little and looked down at the pikmin. For a long moment, confusion covered his face. 

Then he just shook his head, muttering something under his breath that the pikmin couldn’t understand, and settled back down. Now, though, he seemed okay, resting peacefully. 

✿✿✿

“Captain Olimar! It would appear there has been a rather surprising development in the night!”

Olimar groaned, but otherwise made no response. For the first time in a long time, he felt comfortable, and well rested, and he felt no inclination to get up just yet. After so many nights plagued by nightmares, it was nice to just lie there, peacefully. Besides, his blankets felt unnaturally heavy, just further proof, he argued mentally, of his deep exhaust. 

“I really think you’ll want to wake up, Captain Olimar! The pikmin have been behaving in a rather unusual manner!”

“Oh?” He grunted, still not entirely willing to get up. “They’re not attacking Louie, or messing with your controls, are they?” If they were not, then Olimar didn’t see what harm they could really be doing, and thus, didn’t see why he should have to get up just yet.

“No,” the ship replied, “they appear to be helping, actually. Helping you, specifically.”

“Hmmh.” He lifted a hand to rub at his eyes. “What are they doing?”

“I think it will be fairly obvious as soon as you open your eyes.”

Grumbling just a little, Olimar pushed himself to sit up, which then caused the pikmin that had been curled up on his chest to flop into his lap. Olimar just blinked as the white creature stretched and made a noise an awful lot like a yawn (as he wasn’t entirely sure that they could yawn, not having an apparent mouth). After a moment he shook his head and looked around, only to see more pikmin- nine more pikmin, in fact- settled around various locations about his cabin, most of them having cuddled up to him in the night. 

He just rubbed the back of his neck, brow furrowed in confusion. He… had a vague memory of looking up to see many pairs of familiar eyes looking down at him, but he had passed it off as a dream. But apparently… the pikmin had woken him from his nightmare? And furthermore, they seemed to have been intent at keeping any more nightmares at bay, setting up guard around him and staying with him through the night. 

“Well,” he said, smiling down at the white pikmin still in his lap, “thank you for that, I suppose. That’s one more thing I owe you for.”

The pikmin just made a happy noise and leaned forward, hugging him as much as its short arms would allow. Olimar responded in kind, and after a short call from the white pikmin, the remaining nine pikmin quickly joined in on the hug.

And for once, orbiting the faraway planet in his little ship, Olimar felt okay.


	13. Titanic Rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Louie is angry

If there was one thing that could be said about Louie, it was that he was determined. Sure, most of the time he was apathetic, lazy, and impulsive, but when he really set his mind to doing something, he _would_ get it done, and nothing could stop him. 

Like, for example, his skill in cooking. He had simply decided one day that he wanted to be a good cook, and in time, he was able to make nearly anything taste good. 

Or his skill in survival. He had been left here, and he didn’t intend to die here. 

So, survive it was; and survive he did. 

That first day, he had done little. He expected Olimar to come back for him. But as the sun touched the horizon, Louie knew it was too late. Olimar would’ve entered hyperspeed by then, and wouldn’t be able to turn around, even if he had wanted to- which Louie doubted. He knew he wouldn’t have wanted to. 

That first night, he hadn’t gotten any sleep. He had been too busy running, and when he wasn’t running, the adrenaline from running didn’t have time to wear off before he typically had to start running again. 

And he was starving, too. He didn’t have time to stop and cook- provided, that was, that he could’ve gotten his hands on some ingredients anyway. 

He probably deserved this, he knew. No food for eating those golden carrots, and the constant hungry beasts chasing him down for the story about the rabid space bunnies. Louie didn’t particularly believe in karma, but if this wasn’t karma, he didn’t know what it was. 

...Oh, right, it was him, stranded on an uninhabited planet, fending off death. That’s what it was. 

Come morning, he found that in all his running for his life, he had gotten lost. He had no idea where he was; it didn’t look like anywhere he and Olimar had been. 

He did know, however, that he was _far_ from any of the landing sites, and, as such, had no idea where any of the onions were. Which meant no help from the pikmin. No help defending himself, no help scavenging for food, no help whatsoever. 

But that was okay. He could still do this. He had already decided he was going to survive. He just… had to find other ways of doing things. 

The end of the second day found him beaten and bruised and still quite hungry. But he wouldn’t have to run again, not tonight. The previous night, he had, despite his constant flight, noticed that many of the planet’s giant flowers folded up their petals for the night. And, as the sun had begun to set, despite the weary ache in his body, he had struggled up the stem of one of the giant flowers, and curled up inside as the flower closed itself up. 

It was tight and uncomfortable, but at least he got some rest. 

At least he could close his eyes for a few minutes without something trying to kill him, at least there was something on this entire planet that wasn’t trying to kill him, someplace where he could be safe for a little while.

Louie’s third day was better. Better, that is, if bludgeoning a sheargrub to death with your fists can be considered better. But at least he had something to eat, even if he did face the challenge of actually eating it. He eventually figured he could take a deep breath, take off his helmet, get a bite in, then quickly pull his helmet back on before he ran out of breath. 

Still, by the end of the hour or so it took him to eat like this, he had gotten enough oxygen in him to feel a little dizzy. So he simply flopped over and laid there, on his back, staring up at the bright blue sky. 

Was this it, then? Was this how he was fated to live his life? Taking an hour just to eat lunch, then another to recover from the oxygen poisoning? What was the point of this, then? He served no purpose here, no part in the grander scheme of things. Most likely, the biggest thing he’d achieve here, alone, was feeding a hungry bulborb for a day. At least one of them would be happy for a while, then. 

Head spinning and heart trembling, Louie drifted off into an uneasy sleep. 

When he woke, it was to a dwarf bulborb sniffing at his helmet, no doubt already thinking of him as its next meal. Louie barely had time to think before it was wrapping his helmet in its jaws, trying to swallow him whole. And before he knew what he was doing, Louie was smashing his fist into its gut. The dwarf bulborb let out a choked noise and spat him out, stumbling back. 

Why had he done that? Why had he stopped it? Why hadn’t he just let it eat him?

Climbing to his feet, vision blurred by the slobber coating his helmet, Louie gave the creature a dark look. He knew why he did it. He knew why he had saved his own life.

Because he had already decided he was going to survive, and he’d be damned if he let a single dwarf bulborb be the end of him. 

The dwarf bulborb gave him a wary look. It had come to him expecting some sort of fight, but the prone Hocotatian had presented no response when nudged with a nose. It wasn’t until it had tried to eat him that it had been attacked, and it was watching carefully for any more tricks this strange creature might use against it. 

But Louie had no more tricks. Heck, the punch hadn’t even _been_ a trick, it had just been thoughtless action in self defense. 

Louie had no more tricks, but he had something else, something he hadn’t known he possessed until that moment, staring down the bulborb. 

He had strength. He had a power he had never consciously used before, and fueling it was a rage unlike anything he had ever felt. 

Oh yes, he _was_ going to survive. Because this was what he deserved. Because he had dropped his employer into so deep a debt. 

Hands curled into fists and jaw clenched tight, Louie took a step forward. 

Because he had dragged one of the few people he trusted even remotely to this hell planet. 

The dwarf bulborb took a step back. 

Because he had only been a burden to anyone and everyone he came into contact with, and he wasn’t about to stop now. This planet was his doom, he knew, and he fully intended to make it as miserable as possible. 

With a shout, Louie lunged. 

That night, he scaled another flower stem and curled up in the little shelter, his belly full. 

Days passed quickly after this. Louie got stronger, fending off the beasts of the planet. He rarely went to sleep hungry anymore, and a number of the nearby creatures seemed wary of him, watching for him as he hunted. 

He got angrier, too. Because he was stuck here, because Olimar had left him here, because this place wanted him to die here. Because he had brought himself here, because he had made the need to work here, because he intended to survive here. 

Eventually, Louie began to realize that his increasing difficulty in securing a meal each day was due to the facts that, firstly, he had been hunting the same area day after day and was depleting the populations, and, secondly, the remaining creatures were very aware and very nervous about his presence there, and were either leaving, or on high alert. 

So it was time for him to move on, then, to find greener, more populated, less watchful pastures. Time to reap what he had sown, time to accept the payment again for the delivery of those carrots. 

In time, he found himself hunting dweevils in a cave. Most dweevils didn’t make for very good eating, but he needed the food, so he was willing to hunt those that did. 

He was _so hungry_ , and everything edible was trying to kill him. But that was how it was, and he was used to it by now, used to that tight, hot knot in his chest that told him _this is it, this is what you’ve made for yourself, this cold, empty loneliness._

He was used to bearing his teeth in a snarl, used to curling his hands into fists, used to swinging and swinging and swinging again until he brought his prey down. Used to the dizziness that came just after eating, used to the burning in his lungs, used to fighting through the nausea. 

Used to the idea that this was how he lived now, that he had been the one to put himself in this position, that it was his fault he was on the planet. 

He was used to the fact that this planet was a hell meant for him, and he was used to the idea that he was going to see it to its end. 

Deeper and deeper into the cave he delved, teeth clenched, breathing hard. Dweevils were fast, and after his sixth or seventh day, a dull nausea in the back of his throat from all the oxygen had become more or less a permanent thing. 

Somewhere deep in the dark, Louie stumbled upon some old junk lying in a heap. Treasure, no doubt, stuff worth thousands of pokos, stuff Olimar no doubt would have been excited to find.

But, Louie thought, letting out a harsh bark of bitter laughter, he was still hungry. He had found all these valuable relics, he could’ve been rich, and still, hunger gnawed at his insides. 

And quickly, _quickly_ , that laughter changed into something else. 

_Stars_ , how he _hated_ this planet. How he _loathed_ it, how he _detested_ its blue sky and great trees, how its inhabitants made his gut squirm. 

Louie was screaming, a wordless anger and hatred forcing its way out through his throat. He collapsed to his knees, fingers digging into the dirt. 

_Oh_ , the entire planet and _every single thing on it disgusted him_! Every plant, every treasure, every living creature that moved and breathed and ate and was eaten, _oh_ , he _hated it all_! 

His fury echoed through the cavern, and something deep within the earth rumbled, an echo of his rage. 

_And it was all for him!_ Every bulborb, every sheargrub, every dweevil, all of it for him, all of it _just what he deserved!_

Eventually, Louie collapsed on his pile of treasure, hot, angry tears sliding down his face. 

He wasn’t sure how long he was there, only that he was. And then, he could _feel_ it, something coming towards him. And his breath tightened in his chest and his jaw stiffened and his fingers curled. 

And Louie didn’t have to look, didn’t have to see to know that whatever it was, he _hated_ it. It was of this planet, of this wretched hell of his, and he _hated_ it. 

He would have screamed. He would have roared and howled and raged, but already, that echo of his fury deep in the ground was already responding, already lashing out. And Louie urged it on, urged it to _slaughter_ this assailant, urged it to be useless and kill this bit of the planet to fill his belly another day. 

But it was not to be so. Before Louie knew it, the echo had faded, and he was lying on the ground, bruised, beaten, and exhausted, the white hot rage giving way to a simple, mind numbing hunger. 

He knew he should get up, knew he should keep going. But he just couldn’t make himself move. Couldn’t make himself respond to the familiar, concerned voice calling out to him, or the tight, worried grip of a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t protest being lifted up and carried away, nor the familiar pull of a ship’s tractor beam. 

Because this was it. This was the end. This was the fate he had decided for himself, left behind to die, and now there was nothing he could do. 


	14. A Reminter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Olimar almost forgets something important

He had not been on this planet long. A mere four days, only half a week, Olimar had been exploring the place, seeking his missing ship parts. The prospect of his life support system’s failure was a terrifying one, but if he could keep up the progress he had been making thus far, the remaining twenty six days should have been more than enough for him to get home. 

And it was all thanks to the pikmin. The red and yellow creatures had been nothing but helpful to him, and without them, he wouldn’t have even been able to lift off the planet that first night. He would be dead without them.

Yet he had little to offer them in return. It was true that their population seemed incredibly sparse, and he had been trying to help them build up their numbers, but he had still lost far too many in combat each day, and death was a poor repayment for all the work they did to help him retrieve his ship parts, to keep him alive. 

Thankfully, for as much guilt as it caused him, his small allies didn’t seem to resent him or trust him any less for the loss of their comrades. 

And, with their help, Olimar was sure he could make it home. 

This thought occurred to him, not for the first time that day, as he followed a group of pikmin carrying a bulborb back towards the landing site. It was nearly sunset, and this little band of pikmin were the last few out in the field. He was sticking with them just to make sure they made it back in time, or else that he could command them to leave the bulborb and simply hurry back to the onion. Provided that he could successfully do one of those, it would mark the first day he had not lost a single pikmin. 

Smiling to himself as he trailed behind the hardworking creatures, Olimar gazed up at the sky, which had taken on a blazing orange color as the sun set. Four days he had been here, and for as dangerous as it was, the Hocotatian still could not quite wrap his mind around the beauty of this place. The stunning blue sky and unfamiliar stars spanning the night. The towering plant life, with leaves big enough for him to use as a blanket. The vast oceans that covered most the planet, coloring it blue from orbit. Even the animals- the pikmin were adorable in their near childish innocence, and even many of the most hostile creatures had an undeniable foreign intrigue about them.

As he was musing on this, the group reached the landing site, and the pikmin lifted their prize into the onion’s glowing ring of light. As soon as they had done so, Olimar whistled them into their onion, quickly pulled up the newly sprouted pikmin, and herded these, too, into their shelter. 

Then the captain turned away from his ship, away from the onions, looking out on the darkening forest. For a moment, his smile fell and his brow furrowed, eyes darting across the growing shadows, seeking any final danger of the night. It always made him uneasy, the night. It chewed at the edges of his mind, preying on his frayed nerves, stretching and pulling and growing his anxieties. Almost as if-...

But no. Olimar let out a little sheepish laugh, shaking his head, turning away. It was time to go, time to take off, time to rest for the night, orbiting high above the danger. 

He entered the _Dolphin_ , settled into the cockpit, and began the ignition sequence. Above, the stars were just beginning to shine on the dark blue canvas, faint wisps of clouds still spread across the sky. 

Beneath him, the _Dolphin’s_ engine sputtered to life, the entire ship shaking, the deep roar filling his ears. He could feel the ship struggling against the planet’s gravity, but he knew she’d make it. Maybe not into deep space, not yet, but she could get him into orbit. 

Just a few more moments, and he would be out of there, away from those stretching shadows and preying darkness. 

On a whim, on a single frayed nerve, as the _Dolphin_ began to win out against the force holding her down, Olimar cast one final nervous glance backwards, downwards, at the shadows kept at bay only by the light cast by the ship’s rockets. 

And just like that, the darkness won. Olimar’s stomach leapt to his throat and his heart skipped a beat. His hands rose, gloved knuckles pressed to his mouth, eyes widening in terror, mind all but paralyzed. 

Because there, running through the shadows, as he ascended to the safety of the sky, stuck on the ground, chased by the predators of the night, were pikmin. About twenty of them- _exactly_ twenty of them, just as many as Olimar had left to come back to later- fleeing the beasts that hunted them. It was too far, the _Dolphin_ was already too high and the distance widening still, for Olimar to really be able to see them more than red and yellow smudges, but still the image raw panic in their eyes burned itself into his mind. And for the overwhelming roar of the engine, Olimar might’ve been hearing silence, but still, their terrified, agonized screams cut straight through the _Dolphin’s_ hull, into his ears. 

They were being torn apart. They stood no chance, each five of their sprinted steps easily outpaced by a single one of a bulborb’s, their meager resistance crushed between the creature’s massive jaws. 

Four pikmin tried to confront their attackers, but lasted only seconds before defeat. 

Olimar merely watched. He could do nothing; he he could only watch, paralyzed, petrified, his only movement the stuttering in his chest and the tears slipping from his eyes. 

More pikmin ran in panicked chaos, unsure of what to do, fear making the decision all the harder. 

He couldn’t go back for them. 

One pikmin tried to dodge around a bulborb’s legs as it approached, but it was merely kicked down and swallowed up.

He couldn’t save them. 

Another stumbled, tripped, and reached out futilely for the rising ship before it was swept into a hungry mouth. 

It was too late, the night was already too dangerous, they were already all gone. 

Most pikmin just ran for the ship, even though it was far out of reach, even though they had to _know_ it was far out of reach. 

He had left them behind, and there was nothing he could do. 

The _Dolphin_ rose through the tops of the massive trees, and soon, the carnage below was blocked from Olimar’s view. He kept staring, though. Kept watching, begging, pleading, that it had just been an illusion, a trick of his nervous, weary mind. 

He knew it hadn’t been.

The ship breached the thin veil of clouds, climbing ever higher, and still Olimar looked down, unable to see but unable to look away, unable to peel his eyes away from what he knew to be the end of twenty lives, if not by his hands, then by others commanded by his negligence. 

There he was, rising to safety after he had killed them, and he could not look away. 

It was only when the notification that the ship had reached a stable orbit popped up on the control panel’s screen that he was able to turn his head, able to look away.

Shakily, Olimar rose from his seat.

This planet was not beautiful. It was not hospitable. It was not friendly. 

More from muscle memory than conscious decision, he went about his routine, stripping off his suit, eating dinner, going to bed. 

It was deadly, it was cruel, it was going to take everything Olimar was and it was going to crush that. It was going to make twenty six more days pass in the blink of and eye, and if Olimar dared think otherwise, even for a second, if Olimar dared let his mind wander, dared be distracted for even a moment, it was going to remind him, and it was going to take everything he had.

And he lay awake for a very long time, terror in his ears and tears in his eyes. 


	15. A Good Captain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Louie first comes to appreciate Olimar's help

Were he asked, Louie would be lying if he said he liked Captain Olimar. Not that anyone was going to ask him; it was only him and the aforementioned captain out here, and Olimar didn’t strike Louie as the sort who was especially affected by others’ negative opinions of him. 

Regardless, Louie didn’t like Olimar, because this was all Olimar’s fault. 

Well, no. That wasn’t strictly true. Louie had been the one who caused the need for them to be out here, treasure hunting. Louie was the motivation for it. 

But Olimar was the enabler, the provider, the one who had truly made this accursed venture possible. Because there Louie had been, maybe not exactly happy, and maybe out of a job, but ultimately okay, safe, and within an easy distance of home. But then Olimar had showed up out of nowhere, only hours before Louie could count himself free of his slavedriver of a boss. Olimar had shown up like some sort of savior, a saint, a guardian angel, with stories of treasure and a solution to the financial crisis. And because of that, because of Captain Olimar, now Louie was stuck out on this forsaken planet, risking his life every day for some stupid pieces of crap that the ship called _treasure_.

All because of _Olimar_. 

All because of the aging freighter pilot he now trailed behind, the Hocotatian who had the _audacity_ to set foot on that miserable rock every day and smile and say _don’t worry, we’ll get that debt paid soon enough,_ as hungry beasts bore down on them and the ship screamed at them and the _very air tried to kill them-..._

All because Olimar had come with that one little relic the ship had picked up. 

All because of that that Louie, instead of being comfortably in bed at home, was up at the crack of dawn, once again following Olimar into a hostile wilderness, once again being expected to lead a legion of creatures with empty, staring eyes against ravenous monsters. 

Louie only listened with half an ear as the captain explained the plan for the day. That was all he could manage to spare, what with the rest of his concentration being taken up by the constant movement of creatures in the vast foliage, the ever present murmur of the pikmin, his own raging mind, that _infernal buzzing in the back of his head—_

“ _Louie, get down!!”_

Only too late did Olimar’s shouted warning register, along with the fact that the noise _wasn’t_ in his head, but _very much_ outside it. This revelation came with a sudden jerk as Louie was hoisted off his feet, lifted skyward by the snitchbug that had been the source of the buzzing. 

In seconds, despite his struggling, Louie was being carried away, out of Olimar’s reach, out of the reach of the pikmin Olimar threw, far, far out of reach. 

With a sharp blast of his whistle, commanding the pikmin to follow, Olimar gave chase. And for a moment, from his high vantage point, Louie could see the bright spark of a survivor’s determination in the captain’s eyes. 

But then Louie’s view was blocked by the thick plant life, and Olimar and his army vanished. 

Not much later, Louie found himself free of the snitchbug’s grip, but not in much better a situation as he hurtled toward the ground. Before he could truly register what was going on, Louie’s vision was shot through with a flare of black, fuzz filled his ears, and a spike of pain ran up his legs. 

When his senses began to clear up, he found himself crumpled up on the ground, his legs little more than a constant burning, and the most prominent sound he heard was a soft, constant beeping telling him the integrity of his suit had been compromised. 

Thankfully, the snitchbug had flown off somewhere else, and there didn’t appear to be anything too hostile in the immediate vicinity. So Louie could take his time about getting somewhere safer… or he could just flop back on the ground with a groan, wallowing in his own pain and misery.

He elected to do the latter. 

Because it wasn’t like he was going to go anywhere, really. Ultimately, he was going to be here, again. Even if he made it out of this one instance, he was going to be back here again, and again, and again. This planet had it out for him, otherwise Olimar wouldn’t have come with that treasure. 

His suit’s beeping got more insistent. There must have been an actual rip or something in it, not just damage, and oxygen was now sleeping into his suit. Louie supposed that explained why his sight wasn’t clearing up anymore; it had reached a point of general fogginess, and refused to get any better. Actually, it was getting worse. And his ears were starting to ring again. And his chest hurt.

At least the pain in his legs had faded to a dull throbbing. 

Through bleary, half closed eyes, Louie saw a very large, red and white shape slide into view. The bulborb sniffed him a few times, then scooped him up in its mouth, seeming intent on carrying him off for a meal. Why it didn’t eat him then and there, Louie didn’t know. Perhaps it had children. 

Either way, Louie didn’t fight. A combination of the oxygen in his lungs, the pain in his legs, the fog in his head, and the general blanket of depression he had wrapped himself in kept him from struggling. 

So why bother, really? Why bother, why bother…

✿✿✿

Louie came to slowly. Gradually, the oblivion that he had so peacefully rested lifted, and he became painfully aware of just how much his body ached.

He groaned. 

The movement that he hadn’t been aware was happening stopped. 

_L-Louie?_

Most of his weight wasn’t on his own legs. There was an arm wrapped around him, and one of his arms was held across Olimar’s shoulders. 

_Hold on, Louie—… we- we’re almost- almost to the ship—..._

The motion, a halting, jerking, back and forth and just a little bit forward motion, started again. Olimar was pulling them both forward, but as Louie gained just a little more of his consciousness, he saw Olimar was limping rather heavily. 

That wasn’t all, though. The beige of Olimar’s suit was splotched with a dark, dark red, and there were a few spots that, aside from the blood, looked astonishingly clean- newer material, emergency patches, hastily applied to fix a rip or tear.

Noting the heavy grimace on Olimar’s face, Louie grit his teeth and forced his aching legs to hold a bit more of his own weight. Louie stumbling in tandem with Olimar, their speed almost doubled, though that really wasn’t saying much. 

Louie’s suit was in better condition than Olimar’s, but only marginally, with dark bloodstains and only a few less new patches. 

As they staggered onward, Louie tried to recall what had happened, but to no avail. He could only recall the snitchbug, lying on the ground, the bulborb…

And a single image, burned into his mind, as he had laid there on the ground, of Olimar standing over him as menacing shadows blotted out the sun. 

“Olimar-“ Louie began between clenched teeth. 

Olimar just grunted, seemingly more intent on getting his feet to move. 

“Th-e pik- pikmin-... where-?” 

For there were no pikmin following behind them. 

“Don’t- don’t worry about it.”

Louie decided that, for the time being, he would take Olimar’s advice, and focus on moving forward. 

But still, questions nagged at the back of his head. Clearly, Olimar had come to his rescue. And how many pikmin had been lost in that time? For it seemed Olimar had thought little of his own safety in rescuing Louie. How many beasts had he fought off?

How many hits had he taken for Louie while he was unconscious?

Eventually, the two made it back to the ship. Once inside, ignoring the ship’s beratement about them returning so late, being so careless to be so wounded, _damaging company property_ , the two merely yanked off their helmets and collapsed to the floor. For a long moment, once the ship shut up, the only sounds were the hum of the ship’s engines and their own harsh breathing. 

Eventually, as Louie lay staring up at the ceiling, Olimar let out a breathy, exhausted laugh. “Look at us, Louie-... the great- explorers- beaten to a pulp.”

For lack of a better response, Louie just let out a snort. 

Olimar continued. “For- a good little while- I didn’t think- you were gonna make it-. Or- that I was, for that matter-... hah-...”

And yet, Louie knew Olimar had willingly put himself in that position for the sake of saving his life. 

“...Ol-imar-?”

“Hmh?”

“Why-... did you come back?”

Olimar was silent for another long moment. “Because-... I couldn’t just leave you to… not when… there was something I could do...”

Louie took a breath. “No… I mean-... to the planet. You-... didn’t have to come back. I-... I saw. You didn’t want to come back with me. But-... you did. Why?”

Olimar pushed himself up on his elbows, and despite the pain the movement must have been causing him, Louie saw he was smiling just a little. “I already told you why.”

Louie looked away. “...I’m… I’m sorry.”

“...For what?” Olimar’s confusion was audible. 

“...There were no space rabbits.”

At that, Olimar laughed outright. “I know.”

Louie blinked. 

“Louie, I’ve been on freighter ships for a long, _long_ time, and I have _never_ heard of rabid space rabbits eating cargo.”

So Olimar had, in agreeing to come back to the planet, known that Louie was entirely to blame for the debt. 

“I’m glad, though,” Olimar said, pulling himself upright with a grunt, “that you finally owed up to it.” He offered Louie a hand up. “Now, come on. I think my suit is doing a better job at holding all my blood than my skin is, and it’s getting a bit uncomfortable. And you’re not in much better condition, by the looks of things. It’ll be easier to get to the medbay if we work together.”

Louie bit at the inside of his cheek. Olimar had known the whole time, and yet, he still acted so nice. Louie didn’t understand why. 

But, still, with only a small nod, he accepted Olimar’s hand up, and, leaning just as much on the captain as he was on Louie, the two made their way deeper into the ship. 


End file.
